Nomi Schneck

May 13, 2018

Dr. Charles Barber
Art and Persuasion

“Sons of St. Mark”: Myth-making Through Art, Liturgy, and Ritual in the Atrium of St. Marco
A fourteenth-century visitor to the Church of San Marco in Venice (Figure 1) could
experience the newly constructed atrium, with an extensive mosaic program decorating its walls,
cupolas, and arches, boasting large Old Testament images.i These mosaics form 113 scenes of a
particular biblical narrative, stretching from the creation of the world through the exodus from
Egypt. While the iconography of the mosaics has been carefully analyzed, due to the work of art
historians such as J.J. Tikkanen, Kurt Weitzmann, and Herbert Kessler,ii until recently,
scholarship has mostly neglected situating the mosaics within the contemporary framework of
medieval Venice.iii The mosaics are often studied as isolated images, decontextualized from their
environment, where each individual scene is turned, to borrow Robert Nelson’s terminology,
“first into a photograph, a system of representation in our world, and, second, into the equivalent
of a painting, the raw material of art history and thus readily absorbable in art historical
narratives.”iv This study will explore the atrium mosaics as a form of visual storytelling and
dramatic rendering that employ the biblical stories within both the historical and social context of

medieval Venice, as well as the religious framework of the basilica. The mosaics’ significance
will be analyzed both stylistically and ideologically, as well as fitting into an active space of
liturgical function and religious and political procession. In order to access this perspective, this
paper will focus mainly on a series of mosaics that has received limited scholarly attention, the
Abraham cupola (Figure 2). An analysis of how the Abraham narratives are represented will lend
itself as a model for considering how the various atrium mosaics are connected to construct a
message of journeying that relates to the political and social milieu of medieval Venice and the
artistic and liturgical program of the church.
 Schneck 2

Figure 1: Ground plan of San Marco. Image courtesy of Demus, Otto. The Mosaic Decoration of San Marco, Venice,
ed. Herbert L. Kessler. (Chicago: University of Chicago Press), 1988.
 Schneck 3

Figure 2: Abraham cupola. All San Marco mosaic images are courtesy of The Patriarchal Basilica in Venice, San Marco, vol. 2,
ed. O. Demus et al. (Milan: Frabbri Editori), 1990.

Figure 3: Detail of the hand of God from the Abraham cupola

 Schneck 4

From Manuscript to Monument

In order to analyze the significance of the Abraham cupola, an understanding of its

iconographical influences is necessary. The nineteenth-century Finnish scholar J.J. Tikkanen was
the first to connect the San Marco mosaics to the Cotton Genesis, a fifth or sixth-century Greek
manuscript generally attributed to Alexandria and now in London (Brit. Lib. Cotton MS Otho B
VI).v The relationship between manuscript and monument was addressed in detail by Kurt
Weitzmann, who emphasized both their iconographical similarities, as well as their differences.
Weitzmann delineated ten principles for identifying the methodologies of converting the
manuscript illustrations to the monumental mosaics in Venice, such as selectivity, alteration,
condensation, and conflation.vi To Weitzman, these principles are stylistic responses to the shift
in depicting the images on a folio of a manuscript to a large-scale monument. Two years later,
upon publishing their reconstruction of the text and layout of the 221 damaged folios of the
Cotton Genesis, as well as its 260 miniatures, Weitzman and Kessler further advocated for the
dependency of the San Marco images on the Cotton Genesis, based on close examination of the
fragments, as well as comparisons with related cycles, especially the San Marco mosaics.vii
“Hardly anyone has doubted this relationship,” Ernst Kitzinger wrote in 1975,viii and over forty
years later, their connection is still strongly supported.ix While the positive relationship between
their iconography is generally accepted, disagreement exists on the direct relationship between
the two sources. Scholars question whether the Cotton Genesis was the direct source for San
Marco or if there was a missing model, or even a number of lost intermediaries between the two
sources that can account for the stylistic differences between the miniatures and mosaics.x To
Weitzman, the stylistic changes in San Marco “are due not so much to the individuality of the
Venetian mosaicists but are of a nature that would lead to very similar and often identical
solutions wherever the transmission of miniatures into monumental art is involved.”xi In 2014,
Kessler revised his original agreement with Weitzmann, writing about “The freeing of the San
Marco mosaics from a strict adherence to the Cotton Genesis.”xii He argues that the mosaicists
 Schneck 5
exhibited creativity, extensively revising “the manuscript model to engage the exigencies of the
setting, programmatic demands, and thirteenth-century artistic interests.”xiii The present study
follows Kessler’s updated stance that the differences between the Cotton Genesis and San Marco
cannot solely be attributed to stylistic needs based on transferring the iconography to a
monument setting. While the iconography at San Marco is clearly similar to the Cotton Genesis
depictions, the differences between the two and the specific scenes that the mosaicists chose to
portray are fundamental for understanding its independent meaning within its specific context.
By analyzing the changes in the comparable scenes of the Abraham mosaics and the
Abraham miniatures, certain themes emerge. One is the repetition of the hand of God extending
from a blue arc filled with stars (Figure 3). This image is unique to the mosaics for a number of
reasons. While all of the cupolas contain a roundel of images with a top layer of biblical text
(Figures 2, 4-8), text only interrupts image with the hand of God in the Abraham cupola. A blue
rounded heaven filled with stars appears in a number of other scenes. In the creation cupola, it
represents the creation of day four (Figure 9), with the formation of the sun, moon, and stars,
while in the Joseph cupola, it appears above Joseph’s dream of the stars and the moon
worshipping him (Figure 10). The star-filled heaven is in a similar arc shape and rests above the
biblical character, but still does not enter the text. The specific iconography of God’s hand
emerging from the heavens appears in two other scenes beyond the cupola mosaics, in the lunette
above the door of the Zen Chapel and in the vault, showing God speaking with Cain and Noah

(Figures 11 & 12). In both of these cases, the hand emerging from heaven appears above the
character and in line with the biblical text, but does not interrupt the text. With Abraham, both
the repetition of the image four times and its placement within the text, above the figures, is
jarring.
Weitzmann describes this change as a case of condensation.xiv The surviving Cotton
Genesis fragment shows a much larger hand of God surrounded by rays emerging from heaven
within the frame of the scene of God’s call to Abraham (Figure 13). A 1621/22 watercolor by
Daniel Rabel, created as part of a planned facsimile of the Cotton Genesis and made before the
 Schneck 6

Figure 4: Creation cupola Figure 5: Joseph I cupola

Figure 6: Joseph II cupola

Figure 7: Joseph III cupola Figure 8: Moses cupola

 Schneck 7

Figure 9: Detail of day four Figure 11: God speaks to Cain

from the creation cupola

Figure 10: Detail of Joseph’s

dream from Joseph I cupola

Figure 12: The building of the Ark

Figure 12: Cotton Genesis fragment of God
commanding Abraham to leave Haran. Cotton Genesis
images courtesy of Weitzmann, K. and H. Kessler.
The Cotton Genesis: British Library, Codex Cotton
Otho B. V.I
Figure 14: Paris, BN., cod. Fr. 9530, fol. 31r. God commanding Abraham
to leave Haran. Image courtesy of Weitzmann, K. and H. Kessler. The
Cotton Genesis: British Library, Codex Cotton Otho B. V.I
 Schneck 8
destruction of the manuscript, similarly shows a large hand of God on the same plane as
Abraham, reaching out to him, with Abraham leaning away and grasping his mantle (Figure
14).xv The change in this iconography at San Marco is not purely responding to technical
necessity. As the other cupolas show, there was no need to squeeze extra images beyond the
frame of the scenes and within the text. The mosaicists included less than one-third of the total
images from the Cotton Genesis, and carefully planned their specific choices to fit within the
roundel of the cupola. It is hard to ignore the possibility of the repetition of the hand of God
within the text as a purposeful and meaningful addition by the mosaicist.
Another example of creative additions that extend beyond the constraints of the
monumental space is the characterization of Abraham in a military role. In the scene of Lot’s
liberation, the Cotton Genesis only shows three soldiers (Figure 15). An eighteenth-century
watercolor by George Vertue for Vetusta Monumenta, which was based on the Cotton Genesis
manuscript, similarly shows Abraham addressing three servants (Figure 16). San Marco greatly
increases the number of soldiers (Figure 17). Weitzmann explains this difference in number as
due to the lack of space in the Cotton Genesis.xvi Yet, San Marco does not only increase the
soldiers due to scale, as is apparent in the first line of six soldiers, but in the rows of heads
behind the soldiers, which implies a much larger group. This technique shows that the San
Marco mosaicist also had spatial constraints, but still sought to create an effect of Abraham’s full
army of soldiers. Another example of Abraham’s military connection is in the scene of the

meeting of Abraham and Melchizedek (Figure 18). In San Marco, as opposed to Cotton Genesis,
Abraham’s men wear helmets, dressed in full military gear. Melchizedek is donned in armor, as
opposed to the simple tunic from the Cotton Genesis, stressing Abraham’s interactions with
another military figure. A third example is the scene of Abraham and the king of Sodom (Figure
19). In San Marco, Abraham is depicted as a warrior in a short tunic and with a lance. These
changes show, just like with the hand of God, a certain amount of innovation in the San Marco
mosaicist that extends beyond the necessity of spatial constraints. While the general iconography
in the San Marco images is the same as in the Cotton Genesis, details in the images point to a
 Schneck 9

Figure 15: Cotton Genesis fragment of Figure 16: VM., II, X, Abraham arming his servants. image
Abraham arming his servants courtesy of Weitzmann, K. and H. Kessler. The Cotton
Genesis: British Library, Codex Cotton Otho B. V.I

Figure 17: Abraham arming his servants Figure 18: Abraham meets Melchizedek Figure 19: Abraham and the king of
Sodom
 Schneck 10
shift in the nature of how the Abraham narratives are represented.

Mosaics as Myth-Making
The significance of these changes can best be understood within the historical and social
context of the creation of the Old Testament mosaics. This history points to a complex effort of
identity formation for medieval Venice vis-à-vis the East. Since the foundation of San Marco,
Venice exhibited a complicated relationship with Byzantium, and the development of the basilica
was entangled within this political landscape. As Patricia Fortini Brown writes, “Venetian
archaeological self-fashioning had begun as early as the ninth century with the construction of
the first Church of San Marco.”xvii The translation of St. Mark’s relics from Alexandria to Venice
dates back to 828. The relics were not placed in an existing church, but deposited in a tower next
to the ducal palace in Rialto of Doge Justinian Partecipacius, who provided for the building of a
church in honor of the saint in his last will. Justinian’s brother and successor Johannes carried
out this plan, and the relics are considered to have been placed in the completed church in 836.
Not only did Venice take relics from the Byzantine Empire, but this original building was
modeled on a Byzantine church. Although it no longer exists, on-site investigation reveals a
centralized Greek-cross plan based on the emperor Justinian’s sixth century church in
Constantinople, the Apostoleion. Thus, from San Marco’s beginnings, it provided legitimacy for
Venice through modeling itself on Byzantine precedent. At the same time, this foundation of the

state church centered on St. Mark imbued Venice with a specific identity, independent from
Constantinople. Mark was seen as the Italian evangelist, as his gospel was written in Rome for
Italians, and he was considered the apostolic missionary of the Northern Adriatic and thus the
true founder of the patriarchate of Venetia. According to Otto Demus, the Venetians “regarded
and called themselves the first-born sons of Mark, and found in this the justification for robbing
Alexandria of the Saint’s relics and transferring them to Venice.”xviii The choice of. Mark’s relics
centered the church on a figure that Venice could claim as their own, providing Venice with an
independent identity marked by the traditions of an ancient past.
 Schneck 11
The translation of St. Mark’s relics and the foundation of the church was thus a critical
symbol for the identity of Venice. As Patrick Geary writes, “Every aspect of the translation of
Saint Mark has been studied with greater attention than has any other relic theft because of its
acknowledged pivotal importance in the history of Venice.”xix Although the destruction of the
Venetian archives in the tenth century causes difficulty in finding ninth-century sources for the
translation, the Translatio Sancti Marci, dating to the tenth century, provides a detailed and
colorful account of the arrival of the relics in Venice.xx This account is an important example of
the construction of the “myth of Venice,” a phrase used popularly by scholars, referring to the
Venetian absence of a past and the deliberate construction of one.xxi For example, the Translatio
provides religious and political legitimacy to Venice as an independent state, claiming that the
cult of the saint was established in the area long before the ninth-century translation of the bones.
The text justifies the stealing of the relics by two Venetian merchants, who were responding to
the decree of the Saracen rulers in Alexandria, which allowed the taking of marble columns and
tablets from Christian churches, in order to construct a new palace. When the merchants saw that
the custodians of the church of Saint Mark were upset by the possibility of the destruction of
their church, they offered to take Mark’s body back with them to Venice. They described
themselves as “Mark’s first-born sons” and relayed the narrative of Mark’s mission to Aquileia.
The absence of supporting evidence lends the task of discerning what details from the Translatio
are historically accurate, but despite these problems, it is an important text in considering how

the translation of the relics and the foundation of the church in Venice were important for
Venetian identity, providing a “pseudofoundation myth, a story to which the community could
point as evidence of a noble past and a divinely sanctioned future.”xxii
This self-conscious identity formation in Venice, predicated upon its relationship with the
Byzantine East, undergoes a greater shift with Venice’s capture of Constantinople and
instillation of a Venetian patriarch at Hagia Sophia, by the Fourth Crusade in 1204. This moment
is considered Venice’s debut as an imperial power. The state expanded its rule and trade, grew in
wealth, and profited greatly from the war spoils, including marbles, relief sculpture, architectural
 Schneck 12
fragments, mosaic tesserae, reliquaries, and precious objects. As a result of these political events,
the narration of the myth of Venice expanded through embellishing the city with spolia from
Byzantium and enriching the Treasury of San Marco. One of the most famous examples is the
bronze horses brought to Venice from Constantinople as loot from the crusade, which were
installed by the facade of the triumphal arch of the main doorway (Figure 20).xxiii Scholars debate
the message in displaying these spoils, spanning from the ideological, such as triumphalist
claims to the legacy of Imperial Rome and Christian legitimacy, to the practical, such as objects
selected for their utility.xxiv These discussions highlight the moment of collecting and showcasing
spolia in Venice as continued mythmaking of a particular past.
The construction of the atrium of San Marco and the commissioning of its mosaics
coincides with this politically active moment in Venice’s history. The creation of the atrium
mosaics are situated within this thirteenth-century context of reenergized rule and power and the
complex relationship with the Byzantine Empire. How, if at all, do the mosaics reflect the
political climate from which they emerge? Scholars such as Antonio Niero, Thomas Dale, and
Deborah Howardxxv investigate the historical context of the mosaics through focusing on the
Joseph cupolas. Narratives of Joseph dominate the Old Testament atrium mosaics, consuming
three of the seven narrative cupolas. The preference for the Joseph narrative, along with the
Egyptian motifs in the cupolas, such as camels, patterned cushions, and the pyramids in the
setting, are understood as stressing Venice’s continued ties with the East, whether their

domination over Byzantium or their new trade relationships with the Islamic East. These mosaics
are fitting symbols for this eastern significance, as Joseph serves as both a model political leader,
such as the contemporary doge, and as a religious leader, as a prototype of St. Mark. Joseph’s
actions of storing the grain of Egypt and his service to Pharaoh are likened to the Venetian
Republic’s veneration of conserving treasures of other’s lands and the doge’s service to a higher
political leader. Additionally, at the end of Joseph’s life, his bones are carried from Egypt to the
promised land, just like St. Mark’s relics were brought from Egypt to Venice, which too may
therefore be understood as a promised land from the perspective of medieval Venetians. Studies
 Schneck 13
on the Joseph cupola are helpful in exploring how the Old Testament mosaics may articulate a
specific message based on their historical context. However, the themes and styles of the Joseph
mosaics are studied from a purely historical context in broad thematic terms, while
iconographical analysis based on comparisons with the Cotton Genesis and other artistic models
are ignored. Additionally, scholars do not address the way that the mosaics contain meaning
within their specific arrangement in the atrium and their broader function within the basilica
space. While the inclusion of the Joseph narrative is a more direct bridge to eastern motifs, the
studies do not address the other Old Testament narratives in the atrium and how these less
obvious examples contribute to this eastward oriented narrative.

An Eastward Turn
Unlike the Joseph mosaics, the Abraham cupola is an understudied cupola that has not
been explored within its broader socio-cultural context. A critical key for uncovering the focus of
the Abraham narratives is in analyzing which scenes from Abraham’s life were excluded from
San Marco. The mosaicist only portrayed sixteen out of the ninety-five Cotton Genesis scenes
from Abraham’s life, bringing together particular moments. Demus suggests, “Perhaps the most
important guiding principle on the first level was to select only larger chapters, not single
episodes, chapters that were well known and popular.”xxvi However, the Abraham mosaics leave
out popular scenes, such as the banishment of Ishmael and the sacrifice of Isaac. The repetitive

image of the hand of God set within the biblical text plays an important role as an organizational
tool in categorizing the included scenes. An analysis of where the hand appears throughout the
cupola shows how its placement functions to highlights the major motifs in the Abraham cupola.
The following chart lists the sixteen scenes organized into sections by where the hand of God
appears:
 Schneck 14

1. The Lord Speaking to Abraham (Gen. 12:1-3)

2. The Departure to Canaan (Gen. 12:4)
3. The Journey to Canaan (Gen. 12:5)
4. Abraham Speaking with the Lord (Gen. 13:14)
5. Abraham Arming His Servants for the Liberation of Lot (Gen
14:13)
6. Meeting of Abraham and Melchizedek (Gen. 14:18)
7. Abraham and the King of Sodom (Gen. 14:21)
8. The Men of Aner, Eshcol, and Mamre Take Their Portion (Gen.
14:24)
9. The Lord’s Covenant with Abraham (Gen. 15:13)
10. Hagar Given to Abraham (Gen. 16:6)
11. Abraham Handing Hagar over to Sarah (Gen. 16:6)
12. The Discourse between Hagar and the Angel (Gen. 16:7)
13. The Birth of Ishmael (Gen. 16:15)
14. The Lord Speaking to Abraham (Gen. 17:9)
15. The Circumcision of Ishmael (Gen. 17:23)
16. The Circumcision of All the Men (Gen. 17:27)

This organization presents four discreet themes: Abraham’s journey to Canaan, Abraham
in a role of military leadership, Abraham and Hagar, culminating in her giving birth to a son, and
Abraham as a father and leader of his household. These are the major focuses of the Abraham
narrative, and as such, other images that appear in the Cotton Genesis, such as Abraham and Lot
separating, Abraham dividing the beasts, and Abraham and Sarah journeying to Gerar, are
irrelevant to this narrative. One unique angle of the Abraham narratives that these themes
highlight is the positive relationship between Abraham and Hagar and Ishmael. The cycle
excludes all negative interactions between Hagar and Sarah, as well as Hagar’s ultimate
expulsion from Abraham’s household. The mosaics focus on her inclusion, showing the angel
telling her to return to Abraham (Figure 21), and then her bearing him a son (Figure 22). In the
cupola, Hagar is a critical member of Abraham’s household. This emphasis on Hagar’s inclusion
contributes to the positive way in which Ishmael is portrayed. The cupola leaves out the Cotton
Genesis images of Sarah seeing Ishmael sporting with Isaac, Sarah’s entreaty to have Hagar cast
out, Abraham sending Hagar and Ishmael away, and Ishmael hunting. Rather, Ishmael is the only
son in Abraham’s household in the cupola, emphasized by his birth scene (Figure 22) and
circumcision (Figure 23). Beyond the cupola, the three other scenes from Abraham’s life include
 Schneck 15
the hospitality of Abraham in the east lunette of the cupola and the birth of Isaac and
circumcision of Isaac in the west lunette (Figures 24 & 25). There are no other images of Isaac in
the atrium. Although the biblical text portrays a clear narrative of Isaac’s superior role and heir
in Abraham’s household and the Cotton Genesis contains over thirty scenes from Isaac’s life,
from his marriage to Rebecca to his travels to Gerar, the paralleling of Ishmael with Isaac by
showing only their birth scenes and circumcision downplays Isaac’s superiority, and places
Ishmael in a higher status than appears in the biblical text.
In her analysis of the San Marco Genesis mosaics, Penny Jolly writes, “Ishmael's story
was particularly relevant to thirteenth-century Venice, with the launching of the Fourth and Fifth
Crusades in 1204 and 1217... Ishmael was considered the father of the Muslim peoples, and his
natural submissiveness justified the Crusaders' actions.”xxvii Catherine Harding and Nancy
Micklewright, as well as Deborah Howard, stress the positive artistic interactions between the
Islamic world and Venice in their studies of San Marco.xxviii Harding and Micklewright argue that
despite the military conflict between the Venetians and Mamluks, they also maintained contact
through trade and diplomacy. Howard similarly emphasizes the Islamic influence on the
decorative program of San Marco. The focus on Hagar and Ishmael’s positive place in the
biblical narrative fits within these broader findings. Additionally, it shows that in the aftermath
of the Fourth Crusade, Venice continued to turn to the East, not only in terms of their
relationship with Byzantium but with the Islamic world, as well.

This eastward turn is stressed in the other Abraham themes, as well. The choice of
beginning the cupola with Abraham’s journey to Canaan sets the entire cupola in motion
(Figures 26 & 27). Scenes in the Cotton Genesis on Abraham’s life before this journey include
the births of Abraham, Nahor, and Haran, the marriage of Abraham with Sarah, and Terah and
Abraham on their way to Haran. The moment of Abraham leaving his father’s house and moving
to Canaan is significant, as it is the first migration of a biblical hero from east to west. This
movement sets the tone for the rest of the cupola as a story of Abraham’s journey westward
following his divine calling. In an environment predicated on sensitivity to its relationship with
 Schneck 16

Figure 20: San Marco bronze horses

Figure 21: The angel speaks to Hagar

 Schneck 17

Figure 22: Ishmael’s birth

Figure 23: Ishmael’s circumcision

Figure 23: Isaac’s birth Figure 25: Isaac’s circumcision

 Schneck 18

Figure 26: Abraham departs to Canaan Figure 27: Abraham’s journey to Canaan

Figure 28: The crossing of the Red Sea

 Schneck 19
the East, with an emphasis on validation from westward movement, Abraham is the first to
exemplify these actions. The focus on Abraham as a military hero and dignitary emphasizes the
success of this westward movement and his growth as a leader in his promised land. The cupola
skips major portions of Abraham’s life in order to highlight the specific ideas that played a role
in Venice’s evolving myth-making and identity formation.
The biblical inscriptions in the cupola emphasize the themes of Abraham’s journey from
west to east, Abraham as military leader, and Ishmael’s positive role in Abraham’s household.
Just like the mosaics were specifically chosen from a broader corpus of Abraham scenes, the
texts only contain a selection of the biblical texts on the displayed scenes. This choice of textual
inclusion is significant in understanding the cupola. The text begins with Abraham’s westward
journey, stating: “And the Lord said to Abraham: ‘Go away from your country, towards a land I
will show you.’ So he took his wife and Lot, the son of his brother, and walked towards the land
of Canaan. Abraham was seventy five years old when he left Haran.”xxix It then skips most of
God’s dialogue with Abraham, emphasizing Abraham’s physical response through his journey.
The texts that follow relate to Abraham as a leader, as he frees Lot and meets with Melchizedek
and the king of Sodom. There are no quotes about Sarah’s difficult relationship with Hagar or
Hagar’s initial banishment. The texts emphasize Ishmael’s inclusion in Abraham’s household
and fulfillment of God’s promise to Abraham of offspring. First, Sarah commands Abraham to
“go unto my handmaid, for it may be that I may obtain children through her.” The angel then

commands Hagar to return to Abraham’s house, and the following text describes Ishmael’s birth
and the circumcision of Abraham's household. Outside of the cupola, on the eastern lunette, the
biblical quote describes Isaac’s birth and circumcision. Like the images, the texts focus on
Abraham’s movement and military leadership, and the elevation of Ishmael’s role.
The importance of journeying from east to west extends beyond the Abraham cupola. The
three biblical characters that the San Marco atrium emphasizes are Abraham, Joseph, and Moses.
The first Joseph cupola ends with a scene of Joseph’s sale and journey down to Egypt, the
second ends with his success as a leader in Egypt, and the third concludes with the journey of the
 Schneck 20
rest of Joseph’s family to Egypt to meet him at the end of Jacob’s life. The Moses cupola centers
around Moses’s development into leadership, climaxing with a scene of the burning bush. The
final Moses scene (Figure 28), which is also the last biblical scene in the atrium, set in the south
lunette of the cupola, is the crossing of the Red Sea, as the Israelites leave Egypt and make the
long journey back to Canaan. The image, an eighteenth-century replacement of a destroyed
thirteenth-century mosaic of this same scene, is a fulfillment of the final Moses cupola scene of
the burning bush, where he is handed his role as the leader of the Israelites and commanded to
lead them out of Egypt. However, it is also the culmination of all of the journeys throughout the
atrium, starting from Adam and Eve’s exile from the Garden of Eden, which is described in the
bible as being located, “in the east,”xxx and the migrations of early man from the East to build the
tower of Babel, only to be further scattered. Abraham started the nation through his move
westward, Joseph was forced to journey eastward to Egypt, prospered there, and only then
returned in death, and finally, and Moses leads the Israelites back westward from Egypt.
The cupola arrangement of Adam and Eve, Abraham, Joseph, and Moses, presents four
models of travel between west and east. Many other biblical details, given prominence in the
Cotton Genesis cycle, such as the generations between Adam and Noah and between Noah and
Abraham, the entire life of Jacob, and the narratives of Dinah and Tamar, are excluded, to not
detract from the emphasis of the themes of the mosaics. The Moses scenes do not even appear in
the Cotton Genesis, which is specifically devoted to Genesis narratives, and the mosaicist

included the Exodus sources for the specific focus of the retelling of the biblical narrative at San
Marco. The stylistic similarities and harmony between the cupolas emphasize how mini-
narratives form a large narrative of journeying between east and west, privileging westward
migration and specifically the exodus from Egypt to a promised land, recalling St. Mark’s relics
similar trajectory.
 Schneck 21
Translation, Pilgrimage, and Ritual
The theme of ideological movement throughout the cupolas is reinforced by the
arrangement of the mosaics within the atrium. Kessler points out that the copying from
manuscript to monument in San Marco guides the reader through “the movement through the
spaces, not the turning of the pages.”xxxi The visitor does not experience each scene in isolation,
but together, facilitated by her movement through the space. The direction within each cupola
promotes the narrative of movement and further connects the journeys within each of the domes.
The scenes within all of the cupolas progress clockwise. Aside from the creation cupola, which
does not stylistically fit with the others because of its layering of image and text to fill the entire
dome, each cupola begins from the east, and wraps around northward, westward and southward.
The positioning of the start of the narrative at the same directional point links the end of the
journey in one cupola to the start of the next narrative journey. The cupolas are both self-
contained circular units, while at the same time, flow into each other as each cycle directs the
visitor toward the following one.
Images of figures crossing thresholds articulate how the biblical personalities both exist
in their isolated narratives scenes as well as enter new settings. While the use of architectural
backgrounds increases in the Joseph and Moses cupolas, the specific image of a figure crossing
through an entranceway already exists in the creation cupola, with the Adam’s entrance to the
Garden of Eden (Figure 29), as well as the last scene of Adam and Eve crossing through an

archway as they leave the Garden of Eden and enter their new life of labor (Figure 30). The
symbolic significance of the threshold as a liminal space between two realities is stressed with
Adam’s movement from the Garden of Eden, where his body is in the archway, his feet stand on
the untilled soil outside of the Garden, and God, who remains firmly within the Garden, rests his
hands on Adam’s shoulders. Similarly, Abraham stands in a curtained doorway in the scene of
Sarah leading Hagar to Abraham as well as Abraham handing Hagar to Sarah (Figures 31 & 32).
Abraham’s feet walk down the steps outside of the doorway, while his body remains inside,
during the critical moment of Hagar entering his household. At the end of the first Joseph cupola,
 Schneck 22
Joseph’s brothers cross through an entranceway as they present Jacob with Joseph’s bloody
garment (Figure 33), while in the second Joseph cupola, Potiphar’s wife stands in a doorway,
pursuing Joseph, who stands outside of the doorway, while his garment is both within and
outside, draped over Joseph’s body, but also grasped within Potiphar’s hands (Figure 34). The
use of entranceways within the images further forms the movement within and between each
cupola. As the viewer weaves in and out of scenes of exiting and entering throughout the atrium,
she embarks on her own pilgrimage of movement, from the southern entrance, along the western
wall, and then turning eastward, entering the basilica through the Porta di San Giovanni,
mirroring the travels of the biblical heroes who embark on their own pilgrimages above in the
cupola spaces. This movement, guided by the biblical scenes, turns the atrium into a preparation
for the broader basilica space, whose mosaic program was largely completed by the end of the
twelfth century.
Concluding the atrium narrative through passing under the exodus from Egypt, and then
leaving the space through the Porta di San Giovanni, the pilgrim stands in the North Dome of the
church, decorated with narrative scenes of the Life of Saint John the Evangelist (Figure 35).
Continuing through the church, passing the various domes and apses, the viewer encounters a
range of Christological themes, including figures of saints, Marian cycles, scenes from the life of
Christ, the lives of the apostles, and the Ascension mosaic in the cupola of the central dome.
While individual figures of Old Testament prophets, such as Joel, Micah, and Jeremiah, decorate

the western crossarm of the north and south walls, these prophets flank Christ Emmanuel and a
figure of the Virgin, emphasizing their Christological role (ex. Figure 36). No Old Testament
scenes appear in the basilica. The addition of an atrium with these scenes that leads the visitor
into the basilica space filled with New Testament scenes emphasizes the role of the atrium as a
journey in preparation for the broader ritual space.
The connection between the atrium and the basilica is further presented through
typological allusions in the Old Testament mosaics. For example, the encounter of Abraham with
the angels (Figure 37) is set in the lunette above the door of Saint Peter. Antonio Niero writes,
 Schneck 23

Figure 29: Adam enters the Garden of Eden Figure 30: Adam and Eve’s expulsion from Eden

Figure 31: Sarah leads Hagar to Abraham Figure 32: Abraham hands Hagar to Sarah

Figure 33: The brothers show Jacob Joseph’s Figure 34: Potiphar’s wife seizes
blood-stained garment
Joseph’s mantle
 Schneck 24

Figure 36: Cupola of the life of Saint John

Figure 36: West arm, north wall mosaics of Joel, Christ Emmanuel, Micah, Jeremiah. Image
courtest of Demus, The Mosaics of San Marco in Venice, vol. 2

Figure 36: The encounter of Abraham with the angels

 Schneck 25

“Here, Abraham is the symbol of Peter, head of the church of the new people, the relative
episodes of which are represented at the far end of the left nave in the chapel of Saint
Peter...Abraham is the father of the people of Israel. But it is with Peter that the real people of
Israel-the Christians- originate.”xxxii The inscription on the front of the intrados to the north reads,
“Abraham was the forerunner of Christ, who after repudiating the Jewish people, joined the
Gentiles and became one with them.”xxxiii The Abraham cupola is flanked by four biblical
prophets, Isaiah, Ezekiel, Jeremiah, and Daniel, similar to the surrounding of Christ and the
Virgin by Old Testament prophets on the basilica walls. The arrangement and inscriptions of the
atrium mosaics emphasize how the Old Testament images are directly connected to the broader
basilica, preparing the viewer for the ritual space.
The atrium mosaics are further linked to the church through the narratives of St. Mark
and his relevance to Venice. In order for the visitor to begin the guided passage through the
atrium beginning with the creation cupola, he must enter the Cappella Zen. Although this
entrance dates back to the fifteenth century, it is situated by an earlier entrance, the Porta da Mar,
which was originally one of the main entrances to the church. The name of the Porta da Mar as
the sea gate is due to its placement facing both the Piazzetta and the Grand Canal, a natural
entrance for both local and foreign pilgrims. The Porta da Mar situates both Venice and the
church as a destination for those pursuing their own travels from the east. Entering the Piazzetta
from the sea, the visitor enters the Porta da Mar, whose barrel vault contains a cycle of twelve
scenes of Mark’s life, following his career in Venice to his mission and death in Egypt (Figure
38). Significantly, the narrative includes a scene of Mark’s dream forecasting his relics to Venice
(Figure 39), while the inscription marks the dream as taking place at the site of the current
church. The text states, “While he is sailing across the area where the church of San Marco now
stands an Angel announces that at a certain time after his death, his body will be laid to rest here
with great honour.”xxxiv Beyond this scene, the narrative cycle of Mark’s life revolves around
journeying between Italy and Egypt. The first three scenes take place in Italy (Figures 40-42).
 Schneck 26
Mark writes his gospel, presents it to Saint Peter, and is baptized in Aquileia. While sailing to
Egypt, his dream-vision serves as a reminder that he will ultimately return to Italy in death. In
Egypt, Mark performs miracles and is ordered by an angel to travel to Alexandria (Figures 43 &
44). Upon his arrival in Alexandria, he performs more miracles, and is ultimately killed and
buried in Italy (Figures 45-48). Two of the scenes specifically portray Mark’s journeys, one is a
command to journey, and the others show his rise and success between Italy and Egypt. The
saint’s development into a leader and miracle-worker is marked by his travels between Italy and
Egypt, while framing his narrative as beginning and ending in Italy creates a context for his
identity. These mosaics lead to the journeys of the Old Testament figures. The visitor is thus
reminded of the particular significance of the space to the political and religious climate as he
leaves the outdoors, enters the church, and begins to encounter the original westward movements
through the Old Testament mosaics. The atrium mosaics are a bridge, linking to the outdoors
through a reminder of the saint’s journeys between Italy and Egypt, validating the foundation
and identity of the church as well as the contemporary pilgrim’s journey, and to the interior
basilica, depicting an authentic center for ritual worship based on traditional Christian
iconography.xxxv
This constructed path, from outside, to the church’s origin story, to historical narratives
as typologies of religious meaning, to ritual space, was not only traveled by the pilgrim, but by
the doge for specific liturgical feasts. Demus writes that the doge was involved in specific

political functions held in San Marco, due to Venetian victories or war.xxxvi More commonly, the
doge took an active part in the rituals and ceremonies of San Marco, specifically with the
festivals of the ecclesiastical year as well as a number of Venetian feasts, such as the Translatio
Sancti Marci, the feast of St. Isidor, and the vigil and feast of St. Mark. The liturgical
interpretations of Pope Innocenzo III, which were diffused by the Mendicant orders throughout
western Europe, contain parallels with the biblical themes of the atrium mosaics. Specifically,
the biblical interpretation of Septuagesima Sunday through the fourth Sunday in Lent
 Schneck 27

Figure 38: Barrel vault of the Porta da Mar

Figure 39: St. Mark’s dream-vision

Figure 40: St. Mark writes the gospels Figure 41: St. Mark presents the gospels to Figure 42: St. Mark baptizes in Aquileia
St. Peter
 Schneck 28

Figure 43: St. Mark heals a man possessed by the devil Figure 44: An angel orders St. Mark to go to Alexandria

Figure 46: St. Mark heals Anianus

Figure 45: St. Mark’s journey to Alexandria

Figure 47: St. Mark dragged through the city

Figure 48: St. Mark’s burial
 Schneck 29

incorporates the narratives of the creation of the world, as well as the stories of Cain, Noah, the
tower of Babel and Abraham, parts of the life of Isaac, and the life of Joseph, and concludes with
the life of Moses and the exodus.xxxvii These liturgical parallels continue with the decorative
program on the inside of the church, as well.xxxviii For example, the central position of the
Annunciation is aligned with Venetian ceremony, which marked the beginning of the year on
Annunciation day from at least the eleventh century, and by the thirteenth century, placed the
city’s foundation on the Feast of the Annunciation. The translation of Mark’s relics was
connected with the Annunciation in Venice’s ritual calendar, which would be re-enacted during
the feast of the Translation on January 31st. Through the many public processions, the doge was
thus recreating history and reenacting religious ritual mirroring the mosaic decor. The
constructed spaces of movement in the church mirrored the contemporary activity of ritual
practice within the church, which connected past and present through movement between text
and image.

Conclusion

The Abraham cupola shows how the San Marco atrium mosaics were not simply ossified
copies of a fifth-century manuscript adjusted to the particular scale of the church. The selection
and alteration of the images created a contemporary narrative of biblical events that responded to
the strengthening of identity in thirteenth and fourteenth-century Venice. Continuing to turn to
the East, both in triumph, with their conquering of Constantinople, and in opportunity, with the
growing trade with the Muslim world, the mosaics formed a narrative of westward movement
and validation. The visual storytelling of the mosaics were mirrored by the directed flow of the
visiting pilgrims as well as the doge’s guided processions through the atrium to the basilica.
Through paralleling the journeying between the mosaics with the historical memory of the
translation of St. Mark as well as the contemporary practice of pilgrimage and liturgical
ceremonies, the mosaics represent the fusion of myth-making, religious history, and
 Schneck 30
contemporary practice at San Marco. The focus on movement in all of these elements form a
contemporary dramatic rendering based on a constructed past of tradition and religious history.
 Schneck 31

i
The most extensive study of these mosaics was completed by Otto Demus in his two volume
ii
Tikkanen, J.J., Die Genesismosaiken von San Marco in Venedig und ihr Verhältniss zu den
Miniaturen der Cottonbibel (Helsingfors: Druckerei der Finnischen Litteratur-Gesellschaft),
1889; Weitzmann K., “The Genesis Mosaics of San Marco and the Cotton Genesis Miniatures,”
in The Mosaics of San Marco in Venice, vol. 2, 105-142; Weitzmann, K. and H. Kessler. The
Cotton Genesis: British Library, Codex Cotton Otho B. V.I (Princeton: Princeton UP), 1986.
iii
One exception is Penny Howell Jolly’s Made in God's Image?: Eve and Adam in the Genesis
Mosaics at San Marco. (Berkeley: University of California Press), 1997. Jolly studies the atrium
mosaics from the perspective of notions of gender in medieval Venice. Based on Jolly’s
methodology, Annette Reed examines the iconography of the fifth day of creation within the
context of medieval Christian theological concerns (“Blessing the Serpent and Treading on Its
Head: Marian Typology in the S. Marco Creation Cupola.” Gesta 46.1 [2007], 41-58).
iv
Nelson, R. “To Say and to See: Ekphrasis and Vision in Byzantium,” in Visuality Before and
Beyond the Renaissance: Seeing as Others Saw, ed. R. Nelson (Cambridge: Cambridge UP),
2000, 148.
v
Tikkanen, 99-119. The Cotton Genesis is now located in the British Museum. Its fragmentary
status is due to a fire in the Ashburnham House, where it was stored, on October 23, 1731.
vi
Weitzmann K., “The Genesis Mosaics of San Marco and the Cotton Genesis Miniatures,”106-
108.
vii
Weitzmann, K. and H. Kessler. The Cotton Genesis: British Library, Codex Cotton Otho B.
V.I.
viii
Kitzinger, Ernst, “The Role of Miniature Painting in Mural Decoration,” in The Place of Book
Illumination in Byzantine Art, ed. K. Weitzmann, W.C. Loerke, E. Kitzinger, & H. Buchthal
(Princeton: Princeton University Press), 1975, 102.
ix
In a 2014 article on the relationship between the Cotton Genesis and the San Marco mosaics,
Kessler writes, “they [the San Marco mosaics] were based on the Late Antique model and
 Schneck 32

adhered to it quite closely in many details” (“Thirteenth-Century Venetian Revisions of the

Cotton Genesis Cycle.” The Atrium of San Marco in Venice: The Genesis and Medieval Reality
of the Genesis Mosaics, 91).
x
Other contributions to this debate include Büchsel, M. “Die Schöpfungsmosaiken von San
Marco. Die Ikonographie der Erscha∂ung des Menschens in der frühchristlichen Kunst.” Städel-
Jahrbuch 13 (1991), 29 – 80, and Carley, James, “Thomas Wakefield, Robert Wakefield and the
Cotton Genesis,” in Transactions of the Cambridge Bibliographical Society 12 (2002), 246-65.
xi
Weitzmann K., “The Genesis Mosaics of San Marco and the Cotton Genesis Miniatures,”106.
xii
Kessler, H., “Introduction,” in The Atrium of San Marco in Venice: The Genesis and Medieval
Reality of the Genesis Mosaics, 14.
xiii
Kessler, H., “Thirteenth-Century Venetian Revisions of the Cotton Genesis Cycle,” in The
Atrium of San Marco in Venice: The Genesis and Medieval Reality of the Genesis Mosaics, 91.
xiv
Weitzmann K., “The Genesis Mosaics of San Marco and the Cotton Genesis Miniatures,” 125.
xv
In 1621/22, Daniel Rabel was employed to produce a facsimile of the Cotton Genesis by
Nicholas-Claude Fabri de Peiresc. Only two of Rabel’s copies survive, and these images are
helpful for identifying the original iconography of those scenes in the Cotton Genesis.
xvi
Weitzmann K., “The Genesis Mosaics of San Marco and the Cotton Genesis Miniatures,” 126.
xvii
Brown, Patricia Fortini, “Renovatio or Conciliatio? How Renaissances happened in Venice.”
Languages and Images in Renaissance Italy, ed. Alison Brown (Oxford: Oxford University
Press), 1995, 131. Brown explores the relationship between Venice and Byzantium further in her
work, Venice & Antiquity: The Venetian Sense of the Past. (New Have: Yale University Press),
1996. The history of Venice’s development in light of their relationship with Byzantium has
been analyzed in Demus, The Church of San Marco in Venice: History, Architecture, Sculpture,
7-12; Nicol, Donald M. Byzantium and Venice: A Study in Diplomatic and Cultural Relations
(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press), 1988; Schulz, J. “Urbanism in Medieval Venice.”
City States in Classical Antiquity and Medieval Italy: Athens and Rome, Florence and Venice,
ed. A. Mohlo, K. Raaflaub, & J. Emlen. (Stuttgart: F. Steiner), 1991. 438-41; Brown, T.S.
 Schneck 33

“History as Myth. Medieval Perceptions of Venice’s Roman and Byzantine Past.” The Making of
Byzantine History. Studies Dedicated to Donald M. Nicol, ed. R. Beaton and C’ Rouche.
(London), 1993. 145-157; Howard, Deborah, The Architectural History of Venice. (New Haven:
Yale University Press), 2002, 17-28; Parrott, Dial. The Genius of Venice: Piazza San Marco and
the Making of the Republic. (New York: Rizzoli Ex Libri), 2013, 19-26.
xviii
The Church of San Marco in Venice: History, Architecture, Sculpture, 11.
xix
Geary, Patrick J., Furta Sacra: Thefts of Relics in the Central Middle Ages. (Princeton:
Princeton University Press), 1990, 65.
xx
For a detailed summary of the Translatio, see Demus, The Church of San Marco in Venice:
History, Architecture, Sculpture, 8-10 and Geary, 65-67.
xxi
See Patricia Fortini Brown’s Venice & Antiquity: The Venetian Sense of the Past, 15-20,
where she discusses the evolution of this myth, as well as Grubb, James, “When Myths Lose
Power: Four Decades of Venetian Historiography,” Journal of Modern History 58.1 (1986), 43-
94. The recent volume, San Marco, Byzantium, and the Myths of Venice, ed. H. Maguire and R.
Nelson (Washington, D.C.: Dumbarton Oaks Research Library and Collection), 2010, contains
numerous essays analyzing San Marco’s role in Venetian myth-making.
xxii
Rodini, Elizabeth. “Mapping Narrative at the Church of San Marco: A Study in Visual
Storytelling.” Word and Image: A Journal of Verbal/Visual Enquiry 14.4 (1998), 388.
xxiii
Michael Jacoff conducted the most extensive study of the quadriga in The Horses of San
Marco and the Quadriga of the Lord. (Princeton: Princeton UP), 1993.
xxiv
See Demus, The Church of San Marco in Venice: History, Architecture, Sculpture, 165-183;
Nelson, Robert, “High Justice: Venice, San Marco, and the Spoils of 1204.” Byzantine Art in the
Aftermath of the Fourth Crusade: The Fourth Crusade and its Consequences, ed. P.L.
Vocotopoulos (Athens: Academy of Athens Research Centre for Byzantine and Post-Byzantine
Art), 2007, 143-151; Maguire, Henry. “Venetian Art as Mirror of Venetian Attitudes to
Byzantium in Decline.” 550th Anniversary of the Istanbul University, International Byzantine
and Ottoman Symposium (XVth Century), ed. S. Atasoy. (Istanbul: Istanbul Universitesi), 2004,
 Schneck 34

281-289; Brown, Patricia Fortini, “Renovatio or Conciliatio? How Renaissances happened in

Venice,” 133-143; H. Maguire and Nelson, R., ed., San Marco, Byzantium, and the Myths of
Venice. Brown summarizes the questions regarding the spolia: “Were the imported objects
chosen for their utility, for their rarity, for their beauty, for their holiness, for their Christian (as
opposed to pagan) iconography, or simply for their antiquity?...In sum, what was the Venetian
sense of this particular past?” (Venice & Antiquity: The Venetian Sense of the Past, 16).
xxv
Niero, Antonio, “The Cycle of the Atrium,” in The Patriarchal Basilica in Venice, San
Marco, vol. 1, ed. O. Demus et al. (Milan: Frabbri Editori), 1991, 196-200; Dale, T. “Inventing a

Sacred Past: Pictorial Narratives of Saint Mark the Evangelist at Aquileia and Venice, ca. 1000-
1300,” DOP 48 (1994), 96-98; Howard, Deborah, Venice & the East : the impact of the Islamic
world on Venetian architecture 1100-1500. (New Haven: Yale University Press), 2000, 78-93.
xxvi
Demus, Otto. The Mosaic Decoration of San Marco, Venice, ed. Herbert L. Kessler, 156.
xxvii
Jolly, Made in God's Image?: Eve and Adam in the Genesis Mosaics at San Marco, 81.
xxviii
Harding, C. & N. Micklewright, “Mamluks and Venetians: An Intercultural Perspective on
Fourteenth-century Material Culture in the Mediterranean,” Revue d’Art Canadienne 24.2
(1997), 47-66; Howard, Deborah, Venice & the East : the impact of the Islamic world on
Venetian architecture 1100-1500. (New Haven: Yale University Press), 2000, 65-111.
xxix
All translations of the Abraham mosaic quotes are from The Patriarchal Basilica in Venice,
San Marco, vol. 2, ed. O. Demus et al., 156-160.
xxx
Genesis 2:9.
xxxi
Kessler, Herbert. Seeing Medieval Art. (New York: Broadview Press), 2004, 108.
xxxii
Niero, 201.
xxxiii
The Patriarchal Basilica in Venice, San Marco, vol. 2, 159.
xxxiv
The Patriarchal Basilica in Venice, San Marco, vol. 2, 181.
xxxv
See Dale’s “Cultural Hybridity in Medieval Venice: Reinventing the East at San Marco after
the Fourth Crusade,” where he writes about the growth of Venice as a pilgrimage center after the
Fourth Crusade and reconstructs the pilgrim’s path throughout the atrium (in San Marco,
 Schneck 35

Byzantium, and the Myths of Venice, ed. H. Maguire and R. Nelson, 151-191). Dale describes the
pilgrims path within the church in terms of clockwise movement, a further parallel between the
pilgrim and the concentric circles of the cupola mosaics.
xxxvi
The Church of San Marco in Venice: History, Architecture, Sculpture, 54-55.
xxxvii
Bertoli, Bruo and Antonio Niero. The Mosaics of St. Mark's: A Biblical Itinerary, trans.
Michael Longley. (Italy: Electa), 1987, 11, 19; Niero, 195; Jolly, 81-82.
xxxviii
Dale, 98-99.