Uncovering the Story of Danger and Survival Behind Titian’s Portrait of Ambassador

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Looking at Renaissance portraits can be fun even if you don’t know the sitter’s name or story. Even more so, if you manage to find out who’s depicted and why the artist included all the fascinating details that make pre-19th century portraits so enigmatic.

Portrait of the Ambassador Gabriel de Luetz d'Aramon. 1541-42. Titian

Titian’s portrait of the ambassador to the Ottoman Empire, Gabriel de Luetz d'Aramon (or d’Aramont), is a perfect example of the masterly portraiture technique that earned Titian commissions from Europe’s nobility and kings. The date of the portrait is unclear – some scholars favor an early date of 1541-1542, while others (including me) believe it was painted in 1546, after he’d been appointed ambassador to the Turkish sultan.

So, what’s the story of this nobleman who had his portrait painted by "the king of painters and the painter of kings", as Titian was dubbed during his lifetime?

A Dangerous Assignment

In this remarkable portrait, Titian painted Gabriel d’Aramon (full name Gabriel de Luetz, Baron et Seigneur d’Aramon et de Vallabregues), the future French ambassador to the Turkish sultan Süleyman I. d’Aramon appears to have served as a messenger (since ca. 1542) and then an ambassador (1546 to 1553) to the Ottoman Empire. His mission? To beat the Habsburgs in arranging a favorable truce between France and the Ottoman Empire.

Encoded letter written by Gabriel de Luetz d'Aramon after 1546 in his capacity as ambassador

He accompanied Süleyman the Magnificent in his campaigns and even apparently advised the sultan during the Siege of Van in 1548. Gabriel de Luetz represented two French kings, Francis I and Henri II. Navigating the shifting political agendas of the two monarchs who sent him, winning a position of trust at the court of one of the most feared Ottoman rulers, and competing with the Habsburg ambassadors were only some of the issues the young ambassador faced. The inscription in golden letters above the figure reads ‘Monseigneur de Aramonte, ambasator de re di France a Constantinopoli’ (Monseigneur de Aramonte, ambassador of the King of France to Constantinople).

Baffling Elements in Titian’s Portrait

Detail of portrait of Gabriel de Luetz d'Aramon. 1541-42. Titian

But it’s not the identity of the sitter that makes this rather simple portrait puzzling. For one thing, the French nobleman doesn’t look at the viewer. He’s looking at the right corner of the painting, slightly tilting his head upwards. He holds a bundle of arrows in his hand and the light shining off the glossy folds of the brocade curtain behind him forms a sort of halo around his head. Why is that?

Although not exclusive to them, this upward look was more common in Renaissance devotional portraits. It was meant to convey the sitter’s piety, and is often found in portraits of the higher clergy of the Catholic church or members of various religious orders. 

Don Pedro de Toledo as Knight of the Order of Santiago. circa 1540. Titian

Another interesting point is that bows and arrows were declining as the leading weapons in 16th century Europe, as firearms were being perfected. For the Ottoman Turks, however, horseback archery was one of the most favored of tactics in battle. So, are the arrows a reference to Gabriel de Luetz’s sojourn in Turkey during his time as ambassador?  

The halo around his head suggests otherwise. Partially overlapping with the golden text listing the sitter’s name and title, the halo looks smudged and vague, but its shape repeats the outlines of Gabriel’s head. Halos in art always suggest that the person portrayed is a saint. And, interestingly, there is a saint that has a sheaf of arrows as his symbol – St. Sebastian.

The Boy with the Arrow. circa 1505. Giorgione

Since the sitter’s given name isn’t Sebastian, there must have been a different reason he wanted to be portrayed as this saint. The goal may have been to invoke St Sebastian’s protection over himself or to honor this saint for assistance in the past. St Sebastian was a Christian martyr, a Roman soldier who converted many people to Christianity and was later imprisoned and martyred because he refused to worship pagan gods.

St Sebastian was considered the patron saint of soldiers, archers, athletes, and, curiously enough, of bubonic plague victims. He was thought to protect against the plague and was consequently a very popular and respected saint in Venice, which saw numerous epidemics of this lethal disease. In Venetian art, he was often depicted alongside St Roch, another saint associated with protection from the plague. The symbol associated with the saint was an arrow or a bundle of arrows. 

Portrait of St Sebastian with an Arrow. 1499. Albrecht Duerer

Normally, St Sebastian is depicted half-naked in art. However, there are numerous examples of artists choosing to portray the saint fully dressed. This was especially the case when they portrayed a sitter as St Sebastian. For instance, St Sebastian as painted by Albrecht Duerer in 1499 is dressed in the latest fashions of Duerer’s time.

Had the French ambassador survived the plague during his voyage to the Middle East, or was he eager to avoid catching it while in Turkey? It’s impossible to find out what the ambassador’s motivation was to have Titian portray him as St Sebastian, and there’s always the possibility that some of the details, like the halo, may have been later additions. That said, checking the instances of the plague in the Ottoman Empire shows that there were documented instances of the disease between 1533 and 1549 in Constantinople. This overlaps with the period of time that Gabriel de Luetz spent in the Ottoman Empire – from 1542 to 1548, making this explanation possible, if not probable.

The portrait may have been painted in 1546 and not before his appointment as ambassador. And Gabriel de Luetz d’Aramon may have intended this portrait by the famous Titian as a tribute to the saint he credited with keeping him safe from the plague during his perilous journeys in the Middle East. 

 

Further Reading:

Cooke, Neil. Journeys Erased by Time. Archaeopress Publishing Ltd, Oxford https://www.levantineheritage.com/pdf/Sources_of_inspiration_Jean_Baptiste_Vanmour.pdf

Fliegel, Stephen. Portrait of a Youth as Saint Sebastian. La Gazzetta Italiana. October 2017 https://www.lagazzettaitaliana.com/history-culture/8582-portrait-of-a-youth-as-saint-sebastian

Setton, Kenneth. The Papacy and the Levant, 1204-1571. The American Philosophical Society, Philadelphia. 1984

https://books.google.bg/books?redir_esc=y&hl=bg&id=EgQNAAAAIAAJ&q=aramon#v=snippet&q=aramon&f=false

 

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