The Deity with the Apocalyptic Lamb
The combined effect of nine insets and severely distorting recutting has completely destroyed the twelfth-century character of the Deity who, in the keystone of the third archivolt, holds a disk with the Agnus Dei (no. XVII, Fig. 20 and Plate Vb). As the diagram indicates, the Deity's prominent face and his two feet belong to the nineteenth century. The devastating recutting of the lower drapery continues onto the adjacent surfaces of the voussoir, over which the drapery of the sleeves and lower edge of the tunic originally spread. The examination of the area suggests that the distorting modern feet transform what would have been a visually credible bust of God into a deformed dwarf. Yet sufficient evidence remains to verify the iconography of the figure of the Deity with a disk containing “the sign of the Son of man in heaven” (Matthew 24:30), and the validation of the feet as restored may lie in the iconography of the imagery rather than the archaeological evidence that appears to discredit them. Besides the problem of the aesthetically disfiguring feet, during the examination other questions arose concerning minor aspects of the repairs.
According to the Gospel of Matthew 24:30, the sign would be a precursor to the Son of man arriving in glory to judge—the image carved on the keystone of the first archivolt. Yet according to the Book of the Apocalypse, the Lamb in the midst of the twenty-four elders was to be the sign. The elders, crowned and
carrying harps and vials, are represented here seated on thrones in the three outer archivolts (Apocalypse 5:8; Plates VIa–IXa). The vine enframing each of the elders in the fourth archivolt refers to the Tree of Jesse, the first representation in monumental sculpture of the tree depicting the genealogy of Christ. The inclusion of the vine adds a second meaning to the twenty-four figures by conflating the elders with the patriarchs of the Old Testament, who were the royal precursors of Christ.
The importance of the iconography of the Deity with the Agnus Dei and the questionable aspects of the restoration require an analysis in some detail. Two separate insets replace the upper left and right quadrants of the Deity's nimbus. The insets are bounded by the arms and stem of the recut croix-formée. The absence of jewels and ornamentation seems surprising, but no indications of twelfth-century embellishments remain.[5] The entire silhouette of the original head survives behind the new head. At the top, the fragment projects 1.5 cm. in front of the nimbus, and the line of joining gradually moves forward as it descends on both sides of the head, so that the original carving includes all the hair below the ears and on the shoulders. That unrecut remnant of the twelfth-century head and hair authenticates the proportions of the head in the nineteenth-century inset.
The disk and most of the Agnus Dei, as diagrammed (Plate Vb), are twelfth-century stone. The recutting of the disk proved especially severe in the upper right quadrant, where the surface was shaved back as much as 0.5 cm. Measured by the band of cut-back stone along the ridge of the spine and rump of the Lamb, the deep recutting also caused distortion at the perimeter of the disk in the same quadrant. The heavy recutting below the Lamb's chest removed all traces of his original left foot and foreleg, bent and raised in the traditional pose. The dowel scar in the stump of the leg indicates that the loss of the nineteenth-century replacement also caused the loss of some good twelfth-century carving. The original right foreleg still supports the twelfth-century foot of the cross. Its rounded stem raises a question about the shape of the cross proper in the nineteenth-century inset. Starkly unembellished, the square profile of the Latin cross as restored fails to continue the form of the stem visible today beneath the belly of the Lamb.
The body of the Lamb, the best-preserved twelfth-century carving in the ensemble, seems remarkable for its naturalism. The normal proportions,
lifelike muzzle, cloven hooves, fetlock, and genitalia all give evidence of the artist's careful observation of nature. Yet he also drew on stylized conventions to depict the fleece, which he carved with delicately striated, evenly spaced, overlapping locks.
All the carved surfaces below the disk show recutting, and some of the flaring side folds as well as most of the sleeve drapery below the Deity's arms, especially under his right arm, were eliminated. The nineteenth-century restorer must have encountered severe damage that left illegible fragments of the drapery below the hands and disk. He could have misread the convolutions of the drapery along the lower edge of the voussoir and incorrectly interpreted ripples as indications for feet that never existed. Extensive surgery was necessary in order to insert them (Fig. 20). Directly below the disk, the figure of the Deity has been carved back so far that only the recut drapery over the insteps still projects beyond the original surface plane of the archivolt. Along the lower edge, between and around the nineteenth-century feet, as much as two-thirds of the original projection of the voussoir was cut away to accommodate them. They now lie entirely behind the original surface plane. In contrast to the modern feet, the projecting portion of the Deity's twelfth-century nimbus lies in part behind the surface plane but also projects prominently in front of it. Thus, in all four archivolts, only this figure has portions that both overlap the upper and lower edges and lie behind the background plane. And as restored, only this figure in the portal ensemble violates the aesthetic based on respect for the integrity of the human figure and natural proportions. The surgery required to insert the feet destroyed original carving, and their presence created a grotesque figure.
On the other hand, Gerson has proposed that cosmological schemata deriving from images of God the Creator holding a disk (symbolic of the cosmos) had in part inspired the image at Saint-Denis of God the Father with the disk framing the Lamb.[6] The clipeus is an attribute of glory, like a mandorla or a nimbus. The image of the Lamb in a clipeus, with foot raised supporting the staff of a cross, is not, as Schiller noted, “a straightforward symbol of the Passion, but rather the signum Christi, or symbol of victory.”[7] Thus the image places emphasis on the Passion and the Lamb of God, which redeems all mankind, even as the symbolism of the Agnus victor, the apocalyptic Lamb within a disk held by the Deity in the midst of the elders, imbues the image with

Fig. 21.
Dove with attendant angels, no. XIX, keystone, fourth archivolt
cosmic and universal significance. The dual meaning thus unites the imagery of Christ's Passion, his humanity, and its expiatory symbolism with the apocalyptic Second Coming, the eternal victory, and worldwide sovereignty understood in the image of the signum Christi.
In the 1973 French version of this study, the concept of the figure of God the Father with the disk and Lamb was not considered in connection with cosmic schemata. In such representations, the figure of God the Father is hidden behind the disk, with only his head, hands, and feet visible. Recent studies by Gerson, Zinn, and Rudolph interpreting the figure as being inspired by cosmic schemata seem to authenticate the feet as restored and explain the departure from the prevailing naturalism of the portal sculpture. Thus, despite the drastic measures the restorer took to insert feet and the resulting destruction of any authenticating archaeological evidence, their plausibility as part of a schema gives them credence. A cosmological interpretation of the imagery of God the Father holding a disk with the signum Christi seems perfectly consistent with Suger's preoccupation with symbolic modes of discourse, such as those that inform the programs of the windows and the gilt bronze doors of the central portal.