1The wall paintings from the chapterhouse of Santa María de Sigena (Villanueva de Sigena, Aragon, Spain), today conserved in the Museu Nacional d’Art de Catalunya (MNAC, 068703‑CJT), epitomize some complex patterns of artistic creation and transmission, whose interpretation would better enable us to understand how artistic exchange around 12001 contributed to a reconfiguration of visual culture in the Kingdom of Aragon. The murals were painted for a convent of Hospitaller nuns founded in 1188 by Queen consort of Aragon, Sancha of Castile (r. 1174-1208).2 They consist of an Old Testament cycle, a New Testament cycle, and a series of portraits of the ancestors of Christ covering the walls and the diaphragm arches in the chapterhouse (Fig. 1).

2In iconographical terms, for the Old Testament cycle, discussion has traditionally revolved around pictorial recension.3 The aim of this paper is to further develop the philological analysis on the opening scenes of the Enneateuch to shed light on how Sigena’s painters formulated a new visual and compositional vocabulary. Additionally, the paper will reconsider the Old Testament cycle from a gendered perspective to clarify the ways in which Sigena’s allegorical corpus formed part of the message that Sancha of Castile – the paintings’ patron, wanted to disseminate according to her own political and religious concerns.

3The debate on Sigena’s Old Testament scenes has revolved around manuscript and monumental sources that may have served as compositional repositories for its iconography. These attempts have reduced the possibilities to a short number of potential intermediaries, namely the mosaics of the Cappella Palatina in Palermo (c. 1143)4 and those of the Cathedral of Monreale, dated in the second half of the twelfth century (post 1186).5 On the other hand, these paintings have also been argued to also illustrate an intermediate transmission of eastern models via Anglo-Norman miniatures, mainly the illustrations from the Winchester Bible (Winchester Cathedral Library, ms 17) and the Great Canterbury Psalter (Paris, BNF, ms Lat. 8846).6 Consequently, the murals have been considered the result of the participation of painters who previously worked at Winchester.7 For most, the apparent relationship between Sigena and the artists involved in the illumination of the Winchester Bible,8 mainly the so‑called Master of the Genesis Initial and especially the Morgan Master, who was responsible for the famous Morgan Leaf (New York, Morgan Library, ms M 619), seemed to be the prevailing hypothesis.9 By virtue of this relationship it has been always stressed how Sigena’s painters may have had direct knowledge of such prestigious models. However, other scholars have simultaneously argued for those responsible for Sigena could have been a group of painters, or at least one artist, who had been “trained in a Byzantine milieu within the Eastern Mediterranean”.10

4While studying the relationship between Sigena’s Old Testament scenes and the works cited above, it is necessary to understand the working practices of the artists involved in the pictorial process. The possibility that the painters did not intend to exactly reproduce any one specific set of illustrations in the chapterhouse should also be considered. All the more so as all efforts to unveil close relationships to Palermo, Monreale, Winchester, and Canterbury have been only partially successful. Additionally, instead of considering a large group of painters, the apparent homogeneity of Sigena’s paintings argues for one master being responsible for most of the composition – and execution – while certain subtle and barely noticeable differences in rendering argues for the involvement of a small group of “auxiliary” painters.11 In defining their artistic filiation, we will turn away from a positivist approach that defines the master’s origin as English, Spanish or Byzantine. Consideration of the paintings not as the result of direct visual contact of Byzantine models by painters with an English aesthetic background, but as the product of their formulation in a different and “international” koinè may proof particularly useful.

5Although this controversy is far from being solved, the one only time this philological-based approach has been discarded dates to 1994, when Karl Schuler, in favour of characterizing a relationship between Sigena’s chapterhouse decoration and the medieval use of such spaces, studied the decorative tradition of other contemporary chapterhouses. In doing so he concluded that Sigena’s mural programme, with its cycle of Old Testament scenes, New Testament scenes running across the lateral walls, and portraits of Christ’s ancestors on the underside of the arches, was essentially narrative and lacked allegorical interest. According to Schuler, the emphasis on themes of judgement and punishment was in line with the chapterhouse’s function as a place where nuns received religious instruction and discipline was administered.12

6His assumption that the programme has a narrative quality enhanced through certain formal properties of composition is crucial to clarifying both the painters and the concepteur’s relationship with the arts of the book and manuscript illumination. Yet, some other symbolic devices are also present in the first scenes of the Enneateuch, which make an easy narrative reading of the images difficult, and probably carried particular meanings. It is in this difference between Sigena’s arrangement of Old Testament scenes and their alleged inspirational sources where a shift from narrative purpose to allegorical meaning is to be found.

7The arch spandrels of Sigena’s chapterhouse were painted with twenty scenes from the Enneateuch, depicting episodes from the Book of Genesis to the First book of Samuel. In addition, there was a deliberate selection of passages from the Creation of the First Man to the Anointing of King David.13 Following the narrative order, the first scene is the Creation of Adam (Gn 1, 27) (Fig. 2), depicted on the North face of the East spandrel in the first arch. It shows the standing figure of God the Father blessing Adam with his right hand while grasping his wrist with the opposite hand. Adam, who has the same facial features of God to represent the ad similitudinem creation of Mankind, raises his hand in a gesture of veneration. The Biblical narrative has been clearly synthesized favouring the moment of the Animation when God breathes life into Adam, rather than representing the moulding of the First Man with clay. At the same time, there has been a visual transposition with the episode of the Introduction of Man to Heaven. This is far less common. In fact, it is usually in this last scene where God grasps Adam’s wrist, as at, for example, Monreale. Marco Rossi, however, has recently stressed the presence of the same composition not only in the Millstatt Genesis (Klagenfurt, Museum Rudolfinum, ms VI 19, fol. 6r) but also in the murals of Galliano and Agliate, where the scenes follow an iconographical variation of a late antique model.14 This sort of departure from iconographical convention is also clearly in line with the gesture of God grasping Eve’s wrist in the following scene.

8The North face of the West spandrel in the same first arch is devoted to the Creation of Eve (Gn 2, 21‑24) (Fig. 3). As the biblical story relates, God made Adam fall into a deep sleep and fashioned the rib he had taken from the man into a woman. As a word-by-word visual translation, Adam is depicted asleep and lying on the ground while Eve’s body emerges from his side.15 The gesture of breathing life follows the commonest composition. It is to be seen not only in cycles of Byzantine origin, like the mosaics of Norman Sicily or the miniatures of the Byzantine Octateuchs (i.e. Firenze, Biblioteca Medicea Laurenziana, ms 5.38, fol. 6r),16 but also within the Western pictorial tradition, as illustrated by several instances in the Seconda Bibbia dell’Angelica (Roma, Biblioteca Angelica, ms Angel. 1273, fol. 5v) and the Pantheon Bible (BAV, Vat. lat. 12958, fol. 4v). The main difference lies in the gesture of God grasping Eve’s wrist as shown also in the murals of Galliano and Agliate (Fig. 4).17 Karl Schuler pointed out that as dictated by Byzantine iconographic conventions God usually does not touch Eve.18 It is also significant the fact that this same gesture generally corresponds to the scene of God giving Adam his Wife, since the verse, which follows on from the Creation of Eve, carries with it the idea of the sanctity, unity, and indissolubility of Christian marriage:19 “Wherefore a man shall leave father and mother, and shall cleave to his wife: and they shall be two in one flesh”.20 St. Augustine’s understanding of the indissolubility of marriage was developed in his De nuptiis et concupiscentia. Building on Ephesians 5, 32, which refers to marriage in Genesis 2, 24 as a magnum sacramentum of Christ and the church, he reinforced the idea of the matrimonial union as an indissoluble one.21

9The depiction of the Warning of God before the Tree of Knowledge (Gn 2, 15‑17) (Fig. 5) on the South face of the West spandrel in the same arch contradicts the chronological order of the Biblical narrative.22 According to the Byzantine tradition, it is usually only Adam whom God warns about the potential risk of eating the fruit of the forbidden tree. The presence of Eve standing next to Adam shows the close adherence of this scene to Western iconographic convention. Freya Probst underlined how the most immediate parallel is found in the Great Canterbury Psalter.23 However, it was Schuler who stressed the particular emphasis given to Eve through her proximity to God.24 Although he found this detail to be unprecedented, there is in fact an earlier Western example in the Todi Bible (BAV, Vat. lat. 10405, fol. 4v).

10Staying with the first arch, the next scene, the Temptation of Eve (Gn 3, 1‑6) (Fig. 6), is depicted on the South face of the East spandrel. The role of the First Woman is highlighted to a significant degree with the representation of Eve alone in the act of being tempted by the serpent. The episode of the Temptation usually presents the serpent twisted about the Tree of Knowledge with Adam and Eve standing on both sides, the last with the forbidden fruit in her hand. The Sigena version, with Adam sleeping on the ground, is certainly uncommon. Otto Pächt found a comparable representation of the sleeping Adam in an illustrated Byzantine manuscript of the Homilies of John Climacus (BAV, Vat. gr. 394, fol. 78),25 which with great consensus seems to have been conceived as to emphasize the role of Eve in the commission of the First Sin, while abstaining Adam from fault.26 The very first scene of the next arch, the Expulsion from Paradise (Gn 3, 23‑24) (Fig. 7), painted on the North face of the East spandrel, builds on this same idea by depicting the Angel expelling the sinners in the act of grasping Eve’s shoulder. Pächt noticed how there was a monumental precedent in the frescoes of Sant’Angelo in Formis.27 However, this extremely rare composition is not only to be found in mural paintings inspired by Byzantine sources, but also in some illustrated manuscripts of Western origin, such as in the miniatures of the aforementioned Todi Bible (fol. 4v) and the Bible of Santa Maria del Fiore (Firenze, Biblioteca Medicea Laurenziana, ms Laur. Edili 125, fol. 5v).28 Biblical verses describe the fatal consequences of Original Sin with God’s decision to expel Adam and Eve from Heaven. However, Sigena’s depiction centres around the representation of the first step after the Expulsion, when God has already decided to place a Guardian Angel before the doors of Paradise. Adam, in fact, is represented raising up his hand to enquire of the Angel the reason for the expulsion, while the Angel, holding the Sword of Fire, answers his question by grasping Eve’s shoulder.

11Far from favouring this kind of synthesis, the scene of the Angel teaching Adam agriculture (Vita Adami et Evae, 18‑22) (Fig. 7) was depicted on the same face but on the opposite spandrel. Here, the biblical narration is interrupted by introducing an episode whose content derives from an apocryphal source.29 This addition was clearly intended to underline the consequences of the First Sin since convention, both in Byzantine and Western tradition, usually privileges the depiction of Adam and Eve at labour rather than their instruction. In fact, the depiction of the serpent, a symbol of evil, beneath the feet of the First Woman while approaching the same soil that is to be gardened and cultivated by them, goes further in stressing their fate.

12The presence of the serpent, as identified by Schuler, is a common allusion to the episode of the Curse of the Serpent, which chronologically precedes that of the Expulsion in the biblical account.30 It is certainly uncommon to find it within the depiction of this apocryphal theme, which does have some precedents in English miniatures.31 The passage of the Vita Adami et Evae describes how the Angel teaches Adam agriculture while saying nothing in particular about Eve’s duties:

The Lord God sent various seeds by Michael, the angel, who gave them to Adam and showed them how to work and tend the ground, in order to have fruit, from which they and all their generations might live.32

13Yet, the depiction of the episode in the Aelfric’s Hexateuch (London, BL, ms Cotton B IV, fol. 7v) shows Eve holding a shovel.33 In doing so, this miniature offers a visual translation of the apocryphal textual source.34 In Sigena, however, the attribute of the First Woman is a spindle which she holds in her hand and which symbolises women’s sewing skills. The earlier Romanesque pictorial tradition, as represented by the mural paintings of the nave at Saint-Savin-sur-Gartempe, occasionally underlines Eve’s duties in representing her with sewing tools (Fig. 9).35 Accordingly, when turning to the opposite face in the West spandrel, Adam and Eve are depicted at labour (Fig. 10), that is, stressing once again the consequences of Sin. While Adam is represented tilling the earth, Eve appears spinning, twisting yarn from a spindle.

14As for the traditional philological approach, thus far the relationship between Sigena’s Old Testament cycle and presumed miniature and monumental models seems limited. Indeed, the clearest relationship applies not to the figurative corpus but to Sigena’s animal and vegetal decoration, whose resemblance to repertoires common in English miniatures is undeniable. This resembles a vast range of motifs that are to be found not only in the Morgan Leaf or the Great Canterbury Psalter, but in earlier examples such as the Winchester Psalter, of c. 1150 (London, BL, ms Cotton Nero C. IV). One may argue the concurrence in Sigena of such motifs might not be the result of direct and sudden exposure. An alternative would be exposure to a decorative repertoire not for a restrained period but over time and to a wide range of exempla. If so, the key question would be to assess what sort of visual response is to be found in Sigena because of its painters’ access to this reservoir of motifs. It seems it was an innovative response, which also reflects a closest visual transformation, especially regarding the animal repertoire, similar to the one found in the so‑called English Bestiaries of “the second family”, such as Oxford, Bodleian Library, ms Ashmole 1511, and ms Bodley 764, and Oxford, St. John College, ms 61 (Fig. 11). Sigena does seem to have been impacted by a family of Bestiaries from c.1200, which, as stated by Xenia Muratova, reveal direct knowledge of the art of the Sicilian Norman Court of the second half of the twelfth century (Fig. 12).36

15On the other hand, even though we have examined no more than the opening scenes from the Book of Genesis, it is already apparent that in Sigena a canonical biblical account was not always strictly respected. Instead, elements that belong to apocryphal narrative were introduced, such as the scene of Archangel Michael instructing Adam. This was taken from the Latin version of the Life of Adam and Eve, breaking the normal scriptural progression of the scenes. In the same respect, the visual transposition of different episodes contrasts with the chronological order of the Biblical narration. It is easy to illustrate how some of these visual devices, along with others concerning the First Woman, were at odds with well-established compositions, and emphasize the role of Eve not only within Original Sin but also beyond.

16Certain iconographic details also lay great stress on the First Woman as the cause of Original Sin and author of its Consequences. Other examples of an inverse textual transliteration such as the Angel touching Eve’s shoulder rather than Adam’s in the scene of the Expulsion from Paradise, are in line with the unconventional translations of scriptural and visual tradition outlined earlier. At the same time, there is a notable determination to portray Eve as an opposite, that is as the means of human redemption by pointing to her ability to reverse the Consequences of Sin by hard working. The emphasis on the First Woman’s sewing tools, particularly in the scene of the Angel instructing Adam and Eve, was deliberately picked out for this same purpose. It is significant how this idea is also particularly emphasised throughout the cycle, as in the case of the dedicated and diligent Noah in the scenes of Noah building the Ark (Gn 6, 14‑16) and Noah loading the Ark (Gn 7, 19‑9).37 Although the usual composition shows Noah helped in these tasks by assistants, at Sigena he is working by himself. Nonetheless, it was another female virtue, the one highlighted in the scene of Adam and Eve at labour, namely motherhood, that was also stressed. This detail, to which we shall return later, is fundamental to the general symbolism of the cycle. It is common, for instance, to find Cain depicted within the Byzantine pictorial tradition of the Octateuch, particularly in the scene of Mourning after the Expulsion, as an allusion to one of the Consequences of Original Sin; the birth and delivery of Cain. At Sigena, however, the theme of motherhood is accentuated through the inclusion of Abel, with both children, in turn, gazing toward their mother (Fig. 10).

17The redemptive power of motherhood is derived from patristic teaching and summarized in the sermons attributed to “pseudo-Ildephonsus”, where the pain Eve suffers in birth is opposed to the Virgin’s conception through the mediation of the Holy Spirit.38 As such, it seems no coincidence that the opening scenes from Genesis were depicted just in front of the north wall of the chapterhouse, where the scenes representing the Annunciation, the Visitation, the Nativity, and the Adoration of the Shepherds were positioned. This “mise-en-abyme” was most probably conceived to convey a visual juxtaposition of the medieval palindrome EVA/AVE; presenting the First Woman as the sinner and the Virgin Mary as the mother of the Saviour (Fig. 1). It is through the allusion to motherhood that Eve becomes a type of the Virgin in Sigena. As such, the presence of the serpent beneath Eve’s feet in the scene of the Angel instructing Adam and Eve could be assimilated to the encompassing theme of the heroine treading a snake underfoot, a symbol of the triumph of good over evil.

18Symbolic interest in the struggle between good and evil can be found in other deliberate iconographic choices, especially within the scenes of the Sacrifice of Cain and Abel (Gn 4, 3‑5) and the Murder of Abel (Gn 4, 8).39 In the first episode, depicted on the South face of the East spandrel of the second arch, the Biblical verses have been reduced to the minimum number of elements with Abel and Cain offering the lamb and a sheaf of wheat to the hand of God. Schuler identified the depiction of Cain as a swarthy and bearded peasant as a Semitic characterization.40 However, the portrayal does not have to be understood as such but rather as a deliberate differential characterization between young and innocent Abel embodying good and the aged and experienced Cain symbolizing evil.

19The same synthesis was applied to the scene of the Fratricide with Abel falling from the blow that Cain has struck with the jawbone of an ass. Discussion has traditionally focused on the weapon in this case, particularly after Meyer Schapiro identified the jawbone of an ass as an attribute linked to an English pictorial tradition.41 It is certainly not the commonest weapon to be seen in Cain’s hands. In Byzantine illuminated manuscripts of the Octateuch the deadly blow is usually rendered with a stone, and in the mosaics of Palermo and Monreale with an axe. Nevertheless, it seems to have gone unnoticed that in this same tradition of the Byzantine Octateuchs the jawbone of the ass is often associated with another biblical figure of great violence, Samson. Samson, as illustrated in the Mount Athos Octateuch (ms Vatopedi 602, fol. 441r), murders the Philistines with the same weapon and, as such, is equally represented in Western earlier examples, as at the Hypogeum of via Dino Compagni. So, at Sigena, we are witness to an iconographic transposition between Cain and Samson.

20We ought also not to forget how in the chapterhouse, as was first suggested by Angel Sicart, a specific repertoire drawn from bestiaries was conceived as a Psychomachia.42 This worked by juxtaposing beasts that represent vices such as serpents and dragons, to others that signify Christian virtues such as lions or lambs (Fig. 12).43 This association between vice and virtue is illustrated by episodes led by Old Testament patriarchs and through a conscious opposition of scenes depicting damnation, such as the Drunkenness of Noah (Gn 9, 21‑23), the Egyptians in the Red Sea (Ex 14, 15‑31), or the Worship of the Golden Calf (Ex 32, 4‑5), to others representing salvation, mainly the Return of the Dove (Gn 8, 10‑11), the Binding of Isaac (Gn 22, 8‑14), the Pillar of Cloud (Ex 16, 10‑12), Moses receiving the Law (Ex 24), and Moses Striking the Rock (Nm 20, 7‑13).

21On the other hand, although Sigena’s Enneateuch cycle has been analysed several times, it has rarely been studied in relation to the cycle depicting the ancestors of Christ. The arrangement of the portraits and the Old Testament scenes on the diaphragm arches is similar in its formal configuration to a Tree of Jesse. When studying the Ancestors of Christ windows at Canterbury Cathedral, Madeline Caviness drew attention to how the renewed late-12^th‑century interest in genealogy was possibly influenced by Peter Comestor’s Historia Scholastica (c. 1170). Manuel Castiñeiras has recently suggested that Sigena’s cycle of the ancestors of Christ may have been inspired by the same textual source.44 Additionally, in seeking precedents for the depiction of ancestor cycles in the Spanish tradition, Caviness considered the potential influence of manuscripts of the commentary on the Apocalypse by Beatus of Liébana, which contain the Liber generationis or book of the ancestors.45 Whereas such Beatus manuscripts usually name the biblical figures in medallions, the mid‑11^th‑century Beatus of Saint-Sever introduces a significant alternative and instead of naming Abraham in a medallion, the patriarch is represented about to sacrifice his son Isaac. In doing so, the French manuscript became a model for the genre of the Genealogia Christi.

22Although later in date, perhaps the most enlightening example is the Wien, Österreichische Nationalbibliothek, ms ser. 3394, a roll illuminated in Northern Italy by the third quarter of the 15^th century (Fig. 13). Its genealogy is presented in the form of a tree and its most essential features are grounded on the Compendium Historiae in Genealogia Christi of Peter of Poitiers (1130-1205), Chancellor of the Church of Paris and successor to Peter Comestor in the chair of scholastic theology.46 The backbone of his compendium is the Linea Christi, an excerpt of the biblical facts from the Creation to the martyrdom of the Apostles. The roll consists of 6 sheets where the names of Christ’s ancestors are accompanied by a full programme of images.47 Beginning with the Creation, most of the scenes of the first sheet are devoted to the representation of the First Man and the First Woman, with the Creation of Eve and the episode of Adam and Eve at labour, in which both are depicted with the attributes of human labour, namely the shovel and the spindle. Other medallions illustrating the biblical story depict Noah building the Ark, the Binding of Isaac, King David and the High Priest Salathiel. Far from having been randomly chosen, these images were conceived as a reference point marking the Six Ages of the World. Peter of Poitiers’ compendium inspired many other forms for cycles devoted to Christ’s genealogy. A beautiful instance is the painted wooden ceiling of the Church of St. Michael in Hildesheim, where the first Age is indicated by the depiction of the scene of the Temptation of Adam and Eve just beneath the Tree of Jesse (Fig. 14).

23Castiñeiras’ argument on Sigena’s cycle of the ancestors of Christ may be complemented by the suggestion that the Enneateuch scenes displayed on the spandrels could be part of a larger cycle depicting the Genealogia Christi which includes the portraits of the ancestors on the underside of the same arches. In Sigena, however, only three of the six Ages are represented on the spandrels: the Creation of Man to the Flood (first), Noah to Abraham (second), and Abraham to David (third). Even then, the Old Testament king is only represented through the depiction of the Anointing. Although the episode depicted at Sigena is an almost literal translation of the first passage from the Book of Samuel, whereby David holds a shepherd’s staff while being blessed by the prophet, it lacks the royal attributes and the representation of all the witnesses (Fig. 15). This prompted Walter Oakeshott to characterise the treatment of the scene at Sigena as eminently priestly, an approach which showed less interest than usual in stressing David’s kingship.48 According to Aragonese and Navarrese medieval tradition, however, kings of Aragon and Navarre became fully entitled to the rulership of their kingdoms after the ritual of unction, something which is documented from the time of King García Sánchez III of Navarre (r. 1035-1054).49 The completion of the Enneateuch cycle with the Unction of David, avoiding the representation of the later Ages, was probably meant not to emphasise the priestly but the very opposite, to draw attention to the idea of kingship. Not surprisingly, most of the ancestors from Sigena’s series were taken from Luke’s list, which according to Saint Ambrose was the list that ascending from Adam to God signifies spiritual ascent.50

24In spite of Schuler’s assumption that Sigena’s symbolic repertoire was included with a didactic purpose, we ought to mention Rudolph Wittkower’s observation that each symbol, although unambivalent in meaning, also carries a distinct connotation in the special historical setting in which it occurs.51 Sigena’s feminine portrayal of sin and redemption, and its deliberate choice of images depicting the struggle between good and evil, is juxtaposed with a genealogical symbolism which emphasises kingship and spiritual heritage. Seen through the lens of female artistic patronage, this allegorical approach in all likelihood formed a part of the message that the patron of the paintings – most probably Queen Sancha of Castile, wanted to promote alongside her own political and religious concerns. It is a message borne of a context which has hardly been taken into account when considering Sigena’s chapterhouse decoration. The reason for ignoring it may be related to the date that is usually given for the paintings.52 However, the early dates were based on the mistaken idea of a pre-existing chapel that some scholars thought might have served the nuns while the monastic buildings were under construction,53 as well as on an alleged consecration of this same non-existent chapel in 1188; a ceremony for whose celebration there is absolutely no contemporary record.54 A more suitable context returns us to the year 1205. It was in that year that Sancha of Castile’s son, the Aragonese King Peter II, tried to repudiate his first wife, Mary of Montpellier, in order to negotiate a new marriage to Mary of Monferrato, heir to the Kingdom of Jerusalem.55 This new marriage alliance was not only negotiated by the Templar and Hospitaller Knights, but it also took place at the same time that Mary of Montpellier, whose friendship with Queen Sancha of Castile is well documented,56 was trying to produce a male heir for the Kingdom of Aragon. Ultimately, these symbolic connotations, linked to marriage, heritage and motherhood, could have conveyed the perfect message to press Peter II not to reject his wife,57 and put greater effort in conceiving an heir: as did in fact bear fruit with the great Aragonese king, James I, the Conqueror.

Fig. 1 – Santa María de Sigena (Villanueva de Sigena, Aragon, Spain). Chapterhouse. Before 1936 (© 2020 Institut Amatller d’Art Hispànic. Photo: Josep Gudiol GH‑440/1936).

Fig. 2 – Santa María de Sigena. Chapterhouse. Before 1936. Creation of Adam (© 2020 Institut Amatller d’Art Hispànic. Photo: Josep Gudiol GH‑485/1936).

Fig. 3 – Santa María de Sigena. Chapterhouse. Before 1936. Creation of Eve (© 2020 Institut Amatller d’Art Hispànic. Photo: Josep Gudiol GH‑488/1936).

Fig. 4 – Santi Pietro e Paolo di Agliate (Carate Brianza, Italy). Wall paintings. Creation of Eve (Photo: Fabio Scirea).

Fig. 5 – Santa María de Sigena. Chapterhouse. Before 1936. Warning of God before the Tree of Knowledge (© 2020 Institut Amatller d’Art Hispànic. Photo: Josep Gudiol GH‑446/1936).

Fig. 6 – Santa María de Sigena. Chapterhouse. Before 1936. Temptation of Eve (© 2020 Institut Amatller d’Art Hispànic. Photo: Josep Gudiol GH‑454/1936).

Fig. 7 – Santa María de Sigena. Chapterhouse. Before 1936. Expulsion from Paradise (© 2020 Institut Amatller d’Art Hispànic. Photo: Josep Gudiol GH‑467/1936).

Fig. 8 – Santa María de Sigena. Chapterhouse. Before 1936. Angel teaching Adam agriculture (© 2020 Institut Amatller d’Art Hispànic. Photo: Josep Gudiol GH‑478/1936).

Fig. 9 – Abbey Church of Saint-Savin-sur-Gartempe (France). Nave. Eve at labour (Photo: Verónica C. Abenza Soria).

Fig. 10 – Santa María de Sigena. Chapterhouse. Before 1936. Adam and Eve at labour (© 2020 Institut Amatller d’Art Hispànic. Photo: Josep Gudiol GH‑444/1936).

Fig. 11 – Oxford, St. John College, ms 61 (© by permission of the President and Fellows of St. John’s College Oxford).

Fig. 12 – Santa María de Sigena. Chapterhouse. Before 1936. Marginal decoration (© 2020 Institut Amatller d’Art Hispànic. Photo: Josep Gudiol GH‑477/1936).

Fig. 13 – Wien, Österreichische Nationalbibliothek, ms Ser. 3394, segment 1 (© By permission of ÖNB – Wien).

Fig 14 – Church of St. Michael in Hildesheim (Germany). Ceiling. Original Sin (Photo: Wilfried E. Keil).

Fig. 15 – Santa María de Sigena. Chapterhouse. Before 1936. Anointing of David (© 2020 Institut Amatller d’Art Hispànic. Photo: Josep Gudiol GH‑486/1936).