Acknowledgements
At one point some fifteen years ago, I, like Aeneas, took a path through the gates of ivory instead of those of horn. In the Odyssey, the brilliant Penelope explains the difference between true and false dreams by means of a clever assonance, with horn (κέρας) corresponding with the verb “to fulfill” (κραίνω) and ivory (ἐλέφας) echoing the verb “to deceive” (ἐλεφαίρομαι). Has my journey of nearly two decades been a voyage of deceit and pretense, as such etymological games might suggest? Readers of this book will have to decide. What is certain is that the journey would never have been possible without the unbounded generosity of colleagues, friends, and family, and I hope not to disappoint their loyalty, support, and conviction in my abilities expressed over such an extended period of time.
I begin this long list of thanks with my family. My in-laws, Béatrice de Montmollin and Lawrence Herman, have long shown pride and enthusiasm for my work and a nourishing love for the world of art more broadly; they have made me feel very much part of the family. My own immediate family profoundly shaped me and enabled me to become who I am: my sister, Sanna Guérin, my father, Marcel Guérin, and my dearly missed mother, Margaret (Peggy) Guérin, to whose memory I dedicate this volume. My all-consuming project robbed her of my company far too often, and I only hope the final product is worthy of those sacrifices.
My Doktorvater at the University of Toronto, Adam S. Cohen, empowered me to set off on my ivory path. He has been a teacher, mentor, and even psychopomp when needed, and I am grateful for how he continues to enrich my life. Linda Safran has the singular distinction of being instrumental at both the opening and the closing of this project, contributing to the dissertation and more recently editing the final book manuscript. With bottomless patience Linda greatly elevated this book, and I offer her my profound thanks. She saved me from countless little embarrassments, but any errors that remain are very much my own.
Although perhaps not quite as circuitous as those of Odysseus or Aeneas, my journey through the gates of ivory brought me to many ports. Thanking each person in those communities with whom I had scintillating conversations or who inspired a train of thought is simply not possible. I offer warm thanks to colleagues and friends at the University of Toronto, the Metropolitan Museum of Art, the Department of Art History and Archaeology at Columbia, the Courtauld Institute of Art, and the Université de Montréal, from whom I have learned so much. I thank especially the library staff at each of those institutions, whose labours on my behalf helped this project grow.
The members of the so-called ivory mafia warmly welcomed me into their midst, teaching me an enormous amount about this fascinating medium. I am grateful to all of them, especially Paul Williamson, an indefatigable and generous sparring partner; Charles T. Little, for his kindness and faith in my abilities; and Tony Cutler, for teaching me the ins and outs of a tusk. La grande doyenne of Gothic ivory studies, Danielle Gaborit-Chopin, retired from the Louvre just as I began this project, but her extraordinary scholarship has spurred many of my own investigations. John Lowden, the mastermind behind the Courtauld Gothic Ivories Project deftly managed by Catherine Yvard, facilitated my arrival at the Courtauld and often lent a critical eye as I honed my arguments over the years. Few scholars enjoy the privilege of having a database built specifically to their research needs, and though I jest, the Gothic Ivories Project has advanced my research for this book in inestimable ways; I could have cited it on every page.
Many curators, keepers, and other patrimonial caretakers generously opened their collections to me over the years, making it impossible to thank them individually. I hope that seeing their objects in these pages will demonstrate how formative those site visits were for this monograph. Some museums safeguard remarkably large collections of Gothic ivories, and their curators kindly facilitated multiple visits over the years: Élisabeth Antoine-Koenig at the Louvre; Élisabeth Taburet-Delahaye, Xavier Dectot, and Damien Berné at the Musée Cluny; Paul Williamson, Glyn Davies, and Michaela Zöschg at the Victoria and Albert Museum; James Robinson, Naomi Speakman, and Lloyd de Beer at the British Museum; Peter Barnet, Charles T. Little, and Barbara Boehm at the Metropolitan Museum of Art and the Cloisters; and Griff Mann, Martina Bagnoli, and Christine Sciacca at the Walters Art Museum (some of these talented professionals have now moved to other institutions). I am grateful for their generosity with their collections, their knowledge, and especially their time. Gothic ivories continue to be collected by private owners, and I would like to thank in particular the two leading collectors who have granted me access to their exceptional treasures over the years.
In 2016, I arrived at the University of Pennsylvania (Penn) and found a vibrant community of medievalists. I especially thank my Canadian cohort, Mary Caldwell in music and Ada Kuskowski in history, whose extensive feedback on various states of this manuscript have improved it immensely. In my own department of the History of Art, I thank the brilliant Shira Brisman, rigorous Ivan Drpić, and lyrical David Y. Kim; I could not have asked for better colleagues and interlocutors. Bob Ousterhout and Larry Silver, both now retired, were key mentors in my first years at Penn and offered considerable constructive criticism and moral support for this project. While I cannot thank each member of the department individually, I hope they will all see a reflection of Jaffe’s stimulating intellectual community in these pages.
Karen Redrobe, as the director of the Wolf Humanities Center, established Penn’s Manuscript Development Workshop for Assistant Professors, and I am very grateful to have had this manuscript be treated first in the series. Karen read the manuscript cover to cover herself, offering the very welcome viewpoint of a razor-sharp mind outside of my field. With her precision, wit, and profound erudition, Carol Symes also provided inestimable feedback on a full draft and inspired generative reflection on the documentary revolution in the Artois chancellery. I thank all who attended the workshop for their generosity of time and spirit.
Producing this volume has required significant resources. Research began with grants from the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada and from the Mellon Foundation, for which I am most grateful. At the Université de Montréal, I was awarded a grant from the Fonds de recherche du Québec, Société et culture (2014–17), which funded travel and research assistants. The International Center for Medieval Art awarded me a Kress-ICMA Book Subvention Grant to offset the cost of image rights (I thank all of the institutions that provided excellent images free of charge via Creative Commons licences). The Charles Williams Fund at Penn provided a subvention that made it possible to reproduce these glorious ivories in colour. I also want to thank Robbi Siegel at Art Resource and other individuals who helped me obtain photographs and image rights.
I give thanks to my students, from whom I have learned so much, especially Florie Guérin, Marie-Pier Auger, and Marie Hélène Bohémier at the Université de Montréal, each of whom served as a research assistant on this project, and Abigail Rapoport, Robyn Barrow, Ryan Eisenman, and Brooke Wruble at Penn. My conversations with all of them have enriched my research at every turn. To my colleagues around the world with whom I am lucky to be friends, thank you. These include but are not limited to Katherine Eve Baker, Kathleen Bickford Berzock, Alixe Bovey, Joanna Cannon, Danielle Dubois, Sam Fogg, Beate Fricke, Jack Hartnell, Aaron Hyman, Beatrice Kitzinger, Robert Marcoux, Christina Normore, Luca Palozzi, Michele Tomasi, E. R. Truitt, and Ittai Weinryb. In particular, I want to single out Susie Nash, with whom I have had too many formative conversations (often accompanied by a Kir) to count. Lastly, in the thick of the pandemic, Professor Alessandro Nova at the Kunsthistorisches Institut in Florence graciously offered me a fellowship to complete the edits on the manuscript, enabling access to the incomparable library. I am very grateful for his generosity.
At Cambridge University Press, I am grateful to Beatrice Rehl for championing this project, to Thomas Haynes for shepherding the manuscript through production, to Aloysias Thomas of Integra Software Services for his cheerful aid, and to Ami Naramor for careful editing. I also thank the two anonymous reviewers who gave precise and crucial advice for improving the overall argument of the book.
Finally, and above all, I am grateful to my âme soeur, my husband and the love of my life, Nicholas Herman, without whom all of this would have been impossible.
Settignano, 1 June 2021
