Violet or Purple : 2

Often it is asserted by liturgical commentators and other internet experts, that there are "correct" colours for the vestments used during Lent and Advent. Curious as to the history of these colours in Liturgical use, in 2007 an article was researched and posted on this Blog, about the use of penitential colours for the Seasons of Advent and Lent. If you have wondered what colour the Church recommends for these Seasons, you might find the article illuminating, the second part of which is reproduced below :

THE LITURGICAL COLOUR "Violaceus" IN THE ROMAN RITE : Part Two

In the twelfth century, Pope Innocent III was the first to specify the colours of the vestments that were to be used for the Roman Rite; almost certainly this reflected prevailing custom in Rome, not an invention on his part. Although a separate subject from this article, it is well to remember that it was only towards the end of the 1st Millenium that the question of vestment colour became a significant one. Black was designated for penitential and funeral liturgies, but violaceus was indicated as a substitute for black. Pope Innocent’s treatise De sacro altaris mysterio (Book I, chapter 65, which was written before his election as pope in 1198) seems to be the first indication that violaceus had come to be regarded as a penitential colour for the Roman Rite.

If the Royal Purple colour - which emerged in Late Antiquity Europe as a substitute for Tyrian Purple - incorporated what Innocent III refers to as violaceus how did it come to be regarded as a colour of Penance rather than Status? The answer to that is not clear. Extensive research is needed into how the word violaceus was used in Late Antiquity. We do know that the flowers we know as violets were known in antiquity and that the words viola and violarium described the flower, violaceus being an adjective derived from those nouns.

So, what colour is indicated by Innocent’s use of the word violaceus? Let’s consider that question differently: not what the colour was, but what process was used to produce the colour.

It is likely that at this time (12th century) Tyrian or Imperial purple was still being used in Rome, but it had become the colour used exclusively by the Pope and by nobility. So, when Innocent used the word violaceus (instead of purpura), it would seem very unlikely that he was recommending that violaceus-coloured vestments were to be dyed from the expensive process for producing Tyrian purple. That expensive process would be unaffordable and unavailable to Western clergy. Rather, it would seem likely that Innocent’s violaceus was intended as Royal purple, a colour produced from the less expensive non-Murex dyes. It should be carefully noted that these less expensive dyeing processes could produce a violet coloured dye or an amethyst (or fuchsia) purple coloured dye. But they were colours not so dark as Tyrian purple. I would suggest, therefore, that Innocent’s use of the word violaceus has nothing to do with an attempt to make a distinction (as some scholars have suggested) between the colours we recognise as violet and purple.

Whilst I suggest that it is an error to interpret Innocent’s violaceus as intending only the colour violet as we recognise it today, it should also be noted that his treatise in a separate section (Chapter 32) discusses the use of the Mosaic colours (cf Exodus 28:5), namely, scarlet, flax-gold, blue and purple, the latter which Innocent describes as signifying the authority and royal dignity of a bishop. In short, purpura still had the connotation of prestige in the time of Innocent III (quite distinct from a penitential use).

I would add that it is certain that Innocent’s violaceus was not the dark violet-blue colour indigo which is commonly understood today as liturgical violet. Indigo, an ancient colour, was a blue quite distinct from violet or amethyst purple. Furthermore, it was not a commonly-used colour in Europe until the 16th century, when it came to be imported from India (hence the name Indigo).

After the fall of Constantinople in 1453, the supply of the Murex shell to produce Tyrian purple dye disappeared. So, in 1464 Pope Paul II authorised an alternative method of production of purple dye, extracted from the cochineal insect. Some scholars have suggested that the purple of the cochineal was much closer in hue to what we call purple and led to our modern conception of purple being a mixture of red and blue. As we have seen, the “purple” Tyrian was dark crimson because of double-dyeing. Others have suggested that Paul II's colour was closer to what we know as the scarlet used by Cardinals. Further investigation of this is required.

Even after Paul II’s introduction of the new process for dyeing, the colours violet and purple continued to be interchanged indiscriminately throughout the Western church for penitential vestments and the robes of bishops up until the 19th century. The 17th century painting of the prelate Ottaviano Prati shows that his vesture is of violet rather than the fuchsia-purple that we are now familiar with.

From the 19th century, as the process of dyeing fabric became more refined, that shade which the Church designated “purple” became more specific. Even so (as mentioned in Part One of the article), it was not until 1933 that Rome specified the shade of purple that was to be used for the robes of its prelates.

A darker version of violet – closer to Indigo – became more common in Europe in the 19th century and soon crept into the usage of the Church. Rome resisted this innovation until after the Vatican Council, but we have seen Popes over the last 35 years wearing this Indigo-colour during Lent: a dark colour to reflect a penitential mood.

To conclude, a little summary. The word violaceus used in the ceremonial books of the Roman Rite indicates the colour purple (reddish hues) or violet (bluish hues): the Church does not define the shade violaceus as it applies to sacred vestments. But the Church does define the shade violaceus for the robes of its prelates. Both the reddish purple and the bluish “purple” are colours that have been traditionally used for sacred vestments in the Roman Rite since at least the 12th century. There is a well-established usage in the Church’s Traditions for (1) Tyrian purple, (2) violet and (3) amethyst purple (or fuchsia). But of all the shades of “violaceus” currently in use throughout the Roman Rite, Indigo or dark violet has the least claim to Tradition.

The ceremonial books of the Roman Rite make no distinction between the shade of violaceus for the vestments that are to be worn in Advent, Lent or for funerals. On the other hand, those books do not prohibit variations, which might enhance symbolism in a particular Season. In other words, the one shade of “violaceus” is not required to be used for Lent, Advent and for Funerals. In more recent years, for example, the Pope has worn indigo-violet in Lent and purple in Advent. In the United States, some liturgists advocate the opposite practice. In Australia, the colour of the violet flower is used in many dioceses for Advent. Since the Church gives latitude on these matters, we are on safe ground when we choose these shades for liturgical use. We are not on safe ground, however, when we insist that a particular shade is the colour that the Church intends. The history of the use of these colours reveals that they were used freely, without specific regulation, right up until our own times.

Some views of my own on these matters, and they are no more than that: views.

For the Ordinary form of the Roman Rite, when red vestments are required to be used for Palm Sunday and Good Friday, I would like to suggest that it is perfectly permissible and even desirable to use that blood red colour which the ancients referred to as Tyrian Purple. Dare I suggest that this purple is also the appropriate colour for Palm Sunday and Good Friday in the Usus Antiquior of the Roman Rite? I risk being accused of archaeologism, of course.

Then, there is the Season in the Usus Antiquior of the Roman Rite called “Septuagesima”. Is it desirable that the importance of the Season of Lent (from Ash Wednesday onward) be enhanced by the use of vestments of a different colour from the colour used in Septuagesima? We know this is the case in the Sarum and other uses, where a special “Lenten Array” of unbleached linen was used specifically for Lent.

I would like to acknowledge assistance from Inge Boesken Kanold and Dr Gerhard Steigerwald, scholars of the history of the colour purple, in the preparation of this article.

Purple Semi-conical Chasuble

For a returning customer in the Diocese of Sioux City (Iowa USA) the Saint Bede Studio has prepared a set of purple vestments in the semi-conical form.

These vestments were made from an English ecclesiastical brocade and lined in silver-coloured taffeta. The unusual decorative scheme is in silver and black. An orphrey of silver brocade is outlined with narrow galloons in black and silver.

Please click on the image for an enlarged view.

Enquiries : stbede62@gmail.com

Violet or Purple ? The Colours of the Penitential Seasons : 1

Often it is asserted by liturgical commentators and other internet experts, that there are "correct" colours for the vestments used during Lent and Advent. Curious as to the history of these colours in Liturgical use, in 2007 an article was researched and posted on this Blog, about the use of penitential colours for the Seasons of Advent and Lent. If you have wondered what colour the Church recommends for these Seasons, you might find the article illuminating, the first part of which is reproduced below :

THE LITURGICAL COLOUR "Violaceus" IN THE ROMAN RITE : Part One.

A subject that has interested me for many years is the question of the colour of the vestments set down to be used in Advent and Lent: purple. Why, I wondered, were there so many variables to be found in this colour amongst vestments, ranging from a pink/purple to a dark blue? In 2007,  having watched a television documentary about the production of the purple dye as the ancients knew it, I thought that it was worth researching how these colours came to be used for Church vestments. So, this article is the fruit of my research on the use of the liturgical colour violet/purple. Firstly, are the two words violet and purple simply different names for the same colour? Certainly not; Violet is a colour of the spectrum, whereas purple isn’t. In terms of colour definition, violet has definite overtones of blue whereas purple has overtones of red. In this article, a clear distinction is intended to be made when the words "purple" and "violet" are used.


Catholic Prelates (bishops and monsignori) wear vesture of a colour designated by the Church violaceus. In the English-speaking world, we call it Roman Purple; strictly speaking, in terms of colour definitions, this colour is not purple but fuchsia or amethyst. The purple robes of the prelates are trimmed in a colour called amaranth red (crimson).

Is this Roman purple the colour that the Church intends for vestments in the Seasons of Lent and Advent and for Funeral Liturgies? Some say yes, some say no. The practice in Rome has varied over the last several hundred years.

The Liturgical Books of the Roman Rite (Extraordinary and Ordinary) - The Roman Missal, The Roman Pontifical, The Ceremonial of Bishops - all use the Latin word violaceus specifying the colour. The same word used to denote the colour of vestments is also used to denote the colour of the vesture of prelates. But the colour described by the word violaceus can be either “violet” or “purple” as we define those colours. There is another Latin word purpura (which strictly translates as “purple”), but this is hardly ever mentioned in the Liturgical books or the works of commentators.

In more recent centuries, Rome has understood the word violaceus as describing Roman Purple. Has it always been so? Not at all. Even as recently as the early 20th century it was common to find prelates (but outside of Rome) in violet rather than purple cassocks etc. This confusion was resolved when the Congregation for Sacred Ceremonial issued the decree De colore violaceo of 24th June 1933 defining the shade of violaceus to be used for the vesture of prelates and left a sample of fabric of that colour with the Secretary of the Congregation for Consistories in Rome as a reference point. I’d imagine it’s still about somewhere. Certainly since then we see a worldwide a greater uniformity in the colour of purple worn by prelates.

This ambiguity around the exact colour that the word violaceus denotes extends back into antiquity. But it should be noted that in Antiquity purpura not violaceus was the term used to describe the colour of purple garments.

Although the earliest archaeological evidence for the origins of purple dyes points to the Minoan civilization in Crete, about 1900 B.C., the ancient land of Canaan (its corresponding Greek name was Phoenicia, which means “land of the purple”) was the centre of the ancient purple dye industry. The city of Tyr in Phoenicia was especially famous for producing the dye; thus the name “Tyrian”. “Tyrian Purple” was produced from the mucus of the hypobranchial gland of various species of marine mollusks, notably the Murex. It is believed that it took some 12,000 shellfish to extract 1.5 grams of the pure dye! It can readily be seen why this labour-intensive process was so expensive.

Because the process for producing dye in this way was lost after the conquest of Constantinople in 1453, there has been much speculation as to the precise colour the process actually produced. The answer is that, because of many variables in the process, it didn’t produce any one colour. Sometimes the colour was the same as the flower “violets”, sometimes very similar to fuchsia. But garments of Tyrian Purple were supposedly produced by double-dyeing the fabric, which gave a darker colour. Consequently, the colour produced in that process wasn’t “purple” as we understand purple: the Roman natural historian Pliny described it as the colour of clotted blood: a dark crimson or even maroon.

One of the attractions of Tyrian purple was that it was the only colour-fast dye known to the ancients. Furthermore, to the ancients, it wasn’t the just the colour that was important: it was also the prestige that accompanied having garments dyed by this expensive process, something only the wealthy could afford. Purple was a status symbol. In Ancient Rome its use was limited to Emperors, and to a lesser extent, senators, so Tyrian purple also became known as Imperial Purple.

In the late period of the Roman Empire (after the fall of the Western Empire), and after the conquest of Tyr by the Arabs in the 7th century, the Tyrian purple dye became less available in Europe, but still freely available in the Eastern or Byzantine Empire. After the fall of Constantinople in 1453 and until quite recently, producing Tyrian or Imperial purple through the dye of the Murex shellfish became a lost process. In the last 30 years, scholars have successfully re-constructed the process through field experiments.

Centuries before the fall of Constantinople, Europe had already adopted other dyeing processes that produced a colour sometimes known as Royal Purple; this was not the same colour as Tyrian purple, but varied, from being a shade a little richer than the colour of the flower violet, to the shade of the precious stone the amethyst. These shades of “purple” continued to be used in Europe into modern times. Other less expensive processes were also adopted to replicate the ancient Tyrian purple colour. We can claim with some certainty, therefore, that there has been a continuous tradition of the use of purple in Rome since ancient times. The last remnant of its use in Rome is the Pope’s winter mozetta (see adjacent picture): it is of a shade close to Tyrian purple, even though it is not dyed according to the ancient process.

Before the 20th century, whether the shade of violaceus was closer to violet or purple (the result of many variables) in any given garment was unlikely to have been considered of any consequence. The technological advances of the 19th century permitted dyes to be produced with a greater accuracy than hitherto. A darker version of violet – more like Indigo in the colour spectrum– came to be used for vestments, especially outside of Rome. Thus it was that a sharp difference between the two colours violet and purple emerged. At this time (and up until the post-Vatican II period), Rome continued to use a lighter shade (closer to amethyst-purple) for the vestments of penitential liturgies.

Part Two will follow ...

What is the Purpose of Sacred Vestments?

Solemn Mass at the Abbey of Saint Madeleine,
Le Barroux.

If we were to accept the notion that a priest is the "president of the christian assembly" then what he wears to celebrate the Sacred Liturgy would be merely an expression of his personality or tastes. The notion of presider is an entirely modern (and an execrable) concept. A priest, bishop or Pope celebrates the Sacred Mysteries. In the East, the term used is to serve.

Because the celebrant is least of all a "presider", what he wears is not about his own preferences and personality. A priest should ask of himself :

Is what I am wearing worthy of my ministry standing between God and man to offer the Holy Sacrifice?

Will what I am wearing draw those who look upon me during Mass into a closer appreciation of the Sacred Mysteries, in other words, will it raise their hearts and minds to God?

Or will it act as a distraction to the Faithful attending Mass?

2017 Ordinands

This is a most important notice for those considering commissions vestments from the Studio for Priestly Ordination in 2017. Only a very few number of places are still available which will be given on a "first come, first served" basis.

If you are considering vestments, or know someone who is, now is the time to approach us, even if dates and details of designs are worked out down the track.

Enquiries : stbede62@gmail.com

Tradition or Papal Decree : the Mandatum Revisited

A 19th century engraving depicting the Pope, surrounded
by the Papal Court washing the feet of thirteen
poor men of Rome.
This rite took place in the Sistine Chapel on the
morning of Maundy Thursday.

The greatly regrettable news today from Rome concerning the Mandatum is reported fully here.

The practice of Pope Francis to celebrate the Evening Mass of the Lord's Supper not only outside of the Sacred places of the Vatican and not only in places which are not churches, but in prisons or hospices etc, continues to catch the attention of the world. The Pope's decision to wash the feet of women (as well as men) and non-Christians during the Mandatum has variously attracted perplexity and rapture.

Today the Pope's determination has been taken one step further.

An analysis of the merits of this Pope's actions is not the purpose of this post. Rather, we wish to give an outline of the history of the Mandatum in order to present reasons why the significance of the Rite is open to different interpretations and philosophies.

The Catholic Encyclopædia (1907-1914) has an article on the history of the Mandatum, written by Herbert Thurston SJ, of which the following is an extract.  Father Thurston had written previously about the Mandatum in his monograph Lent and Holy Week (1904):

This tradition, we may believe, has never been interrupted, though the evidence in the early centuries is scattered and fitful. For example the Council of Elvira (A.D. 300) in Canon 48 directs that the feet of those about to be baptized are not to be washed by priests but presumably by clerics or at least lay persons. This practice of washing the feet at baptism was long maintained in Gaul, Milan, and Ireland, but it was not apparently known in Rome or in the East. In Africa the nexus between this ceremony and baptism became so close that there seemed danger of its being mistaken for an integral part of the rite of baptism itself (Augustine, Ep. LV, Ad Jan., n. 33). Hence the washing of the feet was in many places assigned to another day than that on which the baptism took place. In the religious orders the ceremony found favour as a practice of charity and humility. The Rule of St. Benedict directs that it should be performed every Saturday for all the community by him who exercised the office of cook for the week; while it was also enjoined that the abbot and the brethren were to wash the feet of those who were received as guests. The act was a religious one and was to be accompanied by prayers and psalmody, "for in our guests Christ Himself is honoured and received". The liturgical washing of feet (if we can trust the negative evidence of our early records) seems only to have established itself in East and West at a comparatively late date. In 694 the Seventeenth Synod of Toledo commanded all bishops and priests in a position of superiority under pain of excommunication to wash the feet of those subject to them. The matter is also discussed by Amalarius and other liturgists of the ninth century. Whether the custom of holding this Maundy (from Mandatum novum do vobis, the first words of the initial Antiphon) on Maundy Thursday, developed out of the baptismal practice originally attached to that day does not seem quite clear, but it soon became a universal custom in cathedral and collegiate churches. In the latter half of the twelfth century the pope washed the feet of twelve sub-deacons after his Mass and of thirteen poor men after his dinner. The Caeremoniale Episcoporum (1600) directs that the bishop is to wash the feet either of thirteen poor men or of thirteen of his canons. The bishop and his assistants are vested and the Gospel Ante diem festum paschae is ceremonially sung with incense and lights at the beginning of the function. Most of the sovereigns of Europe used also formerly to perform the Maundy. The custom is still retained at the Austrian and Spanish courts.

A number of points may be made here.  Although the origin of the Mandatum is a Divine Precept, which the Church has since earliest times considered binding, its expression and its symbolism are by no means clear in liturgical history. On the one hand, it is associated with the Catechumenate, on the other hand with the poor; yet again, a demonstration of the attitude of service which a bishop or religious superior ought to have towards his community.

The question of the Mandatum being linked to Ordination to the ministerial priesthood is somewhat less clear, although it is often spoken about.

What is quite clear, amongst various uncertainties, is that throughout its history, the Mandatum had no relationship with ordinary parish life: it was a rite which pertained to the Diocesan Cathedral or  Church of a Religious Community. Only since 1955, with the revisions of the Holy Week Liturgy approved by Pope Pius XII, has the Mandatum been included in the ceremonies of the Evening Mass of the Lord's Supper on Maundy Thursday and consequently, celebrated ordinarily in parishes. Perhaps this revision was not as laudable as was thought at the time.

In the last two decades, we have witnessed the spectacle of all sorts of curious and frightful additions to the Mandatum, advocated by tinpot liturgists (we will refrain from describing any of these dismal accretions).  And so, the symbolism of this ancient rite has become obscured again.  An unfortunate by-product of this trajectory is that the real focus of the Evening Mass of Maundy Thursday - the Institution of the Blessed Eucharist and Ministerial Priesthood - becomes obscured.

Happily, we note that in both the Ordinary and Extraordinary forms of the Roman Rite, the Mandatum is optional. Its being observed at a time other than during the Evening Mass of the Lord's Supper on Maundy Thursday is something which - we suggest - might be given some consideration. Were that to happen, perhaps it would be of lesser significance if the feet of women were also washed. 

   

Commissions with the Studio

Re-posted from 16th August, 3rd September, 12th October and 22nd November 2015

Owing to an unprecedented amount of Commissions for new vestments received by the Saint Bede Studio in the last several months, we wish to advise that our schedule of work for 2016 is now closed. We regret any disappointment this may cause to those who have not yet made enquiries with us.

The Studio has commenced accepting commissions for the second quarter of 2017.

Chasuble Styles of the Roman Rite (Revisited) : 4

PART FOUR: CHASUBLES OF THE 17TH CENTURY 

Figure 1. Simply-decorated chasuble
made by the Saint Bede Studio in
the style of Saint Philip Neri.

Frequently, the Studio receives enquiries asking about the distinctions between the different styles of chasubles.  Comments are also often seen on websites which indicate that this subject matter is still not well-known. Although this has been written about before on the blog, we wish to present a series of posts describing the styles of chasuble down the centuries until our own time. These posts ought to be regarded as brief overviews rather than scholarly treatments of the subject matter.

Previous posts:
Part One  Part Two  Part Three

This post concerns the style of chasuble found in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries and in particular that form which has been associated through art with Saint Philip Neri. From the earliest years of the Church until about the sixteenth century, the conical or bell-shaped chasuble had been the norm for the ministers at the altar. In the thirteenth century, as described in part two of this series, the shape of that chasuble was slightly modified for the greater convenience of the wearer.

From the fifteenth century, however, in various parts of Europe, but particularly northern Europe, vestment makers took it upon themselves to modify the chasuble still further to free-up the celebrant's arms. Thus - even at this early date but only in some places - that exaggerated shape referred to unkindly as the "fiddleback" began to appear. It is noteworthy that the truncation of the chasuble in this way was never sanctioned by Ecclesiastical authority. Whilst abbreviated chasubles were appearing North of the Alps, Rome retained the Tradition of the ample chasuble, as did Spain.

As has been written about in Part Three of this series, Saint Charles Borromeo prescribed dimensions he believed to be the minimum in order for a chasuble to conform to Tradition. He prescribed that the chasuble was to be very long, reaching at the back almost to the heels of the wearer and wide enough so that it reached to at least half way between the elbow and the wrist.

Contemporaneous with Saint Charles and for a century thereafter, a less ample form of chasuble was common, which is evidenced by paintings, sculptures and engravings of the 16th and 17th centuries. This form of chasuble is best known Saint Philip Neri, one of which is included in this post. We also include other works of art from this period depicting the same form of chasuble.

Figure 2. Well-known seventeenth century painting 
of Saint Philip Neri.

This form of chasuble only reached to the elbows, or sometimes not quite that far, but on the other hand was quite long, especially at the back. These chasubles also, it would seem from the evidence, often incorporated shoulder seams. The ancient form, as has been discussed in previous posts, did not use shoulder seams to sew together the front and back of the chasuble. Instead the chasuble, being a form of semicircle, was sewn together in the middle at the front, making a bell shape. During the middle ages, the practical limitations of such a design became evident and we find makers of vestments introducing the shoulder seam to constrict less the movements of the celebrant. The shoulder seam became more common in the 16th and 17th centuries, although our evidence for this is not complete. Not all vestments of this period were constructed in this way of sewing together the front and the back at the shoulder line.

Figure 3. Carving on the door of a Roman 
basilica shewing Saint Vitalis vested 
in a chasuble of the 17th century form.
Image: Orbis Catholicus Secundus.

The decoration most commonly found on vestments from the Southern Europe during this period was in the established Roman style: a single column at the back and at the front a TAU. Sometimes we find that a single column is substituted for the tau on such vestments. In Northern Europe, we find a similar shape of vestment ornamented with the familiar " Y " shape orphreys.

Presently, there is a revived interest in the Saint Philip Neri form of chasuble. The Saint Bede Studio regularly receives enquiries about such chasubles which seem to appeal because they are very Roman in character, based in Tradition, but yet not in the exaggerated form of the eighteenth century. Another reason, of course, is that they are very convenient to wear. Priests comment that they find this form of chasuble most suitable for the celebration of the Mass according to the Ordinary and Extraordinary usages.

Figure 4. 1628 painting by Francisco Herrera the Elder of 
Saint Bonaventure receiving Holy Communion 
from an Angel: the priest vested in a chasuble of 
the Saint Philip Neri form.

Click on the images for an enlarged view.

Enquiries: stbede62@gmail.com

Vestments in the Sixteenth Century Style

Adjacent is pictured a new set of red vestments in the Saint Philip Neri style, recently completed by the Studio.

A Baroque damask in shades of red and gold was used for these vestments. The ornamentation - in the Roman style - was formed from panels of red silk, augmented with a narrow galloon in straw-gold and dark red, outlining it. The chasuble is lined in red taffeta intended to support the colour of the orphrey.

The vestments described in this post were commissioned - together with a number of other vestments - for a Monastic Community in Brazil.

Click on the image for an enlarged view.

Enquiries: stbede62@gmail.com

On the Solemnity of the Theotokos

To all readers of this Blog, friends and customers of the Saint Bede Studio, my best wishes for good health and spiritual renewal on this Solemnity of Mary, the Mother of God and throughout 2016. To all priestly readers of this post, may you succour a bountiful number of penitents in this Year of Mercy.