No one knows the story behind the painting “The Fortune-Teller” by Lucas van Leyden (1494-1533), so it is ripe for speculation. It was painted in 1508 when Lucas was only fourteen, marking him as one of the great painters of the age. This work is also considered to be the first “genre painting” that depicts everyday events in ordinary life. If what is shown is truly fortune-telling with cards then it is one of the earliest records of cards being used in this way (see Origins of Playing Card Divination).
I believe the cards in this picture represent the many turns of fortune, but it may be more of a metaphor than an actual card reading. Still, we know from research by Ross Caldwell that by 1450 playing cards were used in Spain for fortune-telling “puédense echar suertes en ellos á quién más ama cada uno, e á quién quiere más et por otras muchas et diversas maneras (“one can cast lots [tell fortunes] with them to know who each one loves most and who is most desired and by many other and diverse ways.”) And, as we will see, both of the main characters in the painting married into the Spanish royal family and spent time there.
The central woman is thought by some to be Margarethe (Margaret) of Austria and Savoy (1480-1530) (see also here). Born in Flanders, she was daughter of the Holy Roman Emperor, Maximilian I and Mary, Duchess of Burgundy. Her step-mother was Bianca Maria Sforza, daughter of Galeazzo Maria Sforza, Duke of Milan, by his second wife, Bona of Savoy, and granddaughter of Bianca Maria Visconti (m. Francesco Sforza) for whom the Visconti-Sforza Tarot was made.
At three years of age Margarethe was betrothed to the Dauphin of France (later, Charles VIII), but at ten was returned to her family when he married someone else. In 1497, at seventeen, she and her brother, Philip ‘the Handsome’ (Archduke of Austria, ruler of Burgundy and the Netherlands, and in line to become Holy Roman Emperor), were married off in a double alliance to the Infante Juan and Infanta Juana, children of Ferdinand of Aragon and Isabella of Castile (who sent Columbus to America). (Pictures below are of Philip and Margarethe.)
The Infante Juan died six months later and Margarethe’s child was stillborn. Margarethe was then married to Philibert (Phillip) of Savoy with whom she was very happy, but he died three years later. (He, by the way, actively supported the Milanese cause of the Sforzas against the French until offered a bribe by the French that he couldn’t refuse.) So, by the age of twenty-four she had already had a betrothal broken by France’s Charles VIII, lost a child, and was the widow of both the Infante Juan of Spain as well as of her much loved Philibert. Although her family tried to entice her into a marriage with Henry VII of England, she vowed never to remarry and took the motto: FORTUNE . INFORTUNE . FORT.UNE that has been translated as “Fortune, misfortune, and one strong to meet them.” I see it as both a reminder of her sad story and her claiming of the strength (forte) that such adversity had brought her.
Meanwhile, in 1506, Margarethe’s beloved brother, Philip the Handsome, was named King of Spain, but he died that same year, his son becoming the next King of Spain (Carlos I) and eventually Holy Roman Emperor (Charles V). In 1507 Margarethe was named governor of the Habsburg Netherlands, in place of her brother, and guardian of his seven-year-old son. She went on to become a significant political figure and patron of the arts, negotiating treaties and continuing to rule the Netherlands at the behest of her father, Maximilian, and then her nephew.
There is a possibility that Lucas van Leyden’s 1508 painting commemorates Margarethe of Austria’s ascendancy to the governorship of the Netherlands in 1507, following the death of her brother, Philip the Handsome. The flower being exchanged (a “pink” signifying loyalty in love?) could represent the passing on of the governorship and their love for the people of the Netherlands who could be the commoners pictured in the background witnessing the change-over. The daisy on the woman’s gown could be meant to identify her (a marguerite daisy). Philip the Handsome (portrait above left) wears a necklace and hat similar to those in “The Fortune Teller” where his doffed hat and sad eyes seem to illustrate his mortal leave-taking. The portrait on the right shows Margarethe in widow’s garb as she liked to be seen in the second half of her life. The Fool with his bauble (fool’s sceptre) may have been someone specific at the court or he may be a symbolic reminder of the foolishness of thinking that a high place and worldly honors will last. More people look at him than at anyone else. There are clearly three layers to the cards: Philip & Margarethe, the Fool and a lady-in-waiting(?), and a backdrop of commoners who may represent the people of the country who are unsure what is to become of them.
At least one other painting by van Leyden is said to show Margarethe’s involvement in political negotiations pictured as a card game (1525; see below). It is thought to refer to a agreement between Emperor Charles V (left) and Cardinal Wolsey (right) to form a secret alliance between Spain and England against Francis I of France. Margarethe is known to have been involved in these negotiations. This painting would therefore refer back to the 1508 one where her position as regent of the Netherlands was commemorated.
A nineteenth century etching based on the painting (the etching is from Le Magasin pittoresque, 1840) was identified as “The Archduke of Austria Consulting a Fortune-Teller” when reproduced in Chambers‘ article on card reading. It has often been depicted as proof of early playing card divination. As we’ve seen, that may be too simplistic a view. However it is interesting that Philip the Handsome was Archduke of Austria (and his sister became Archduchess of Austria after him).
Here’s a couple more portraits of Margarethe. The one on the right has a similar neckline to the one in our painting (though slightly higher):
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[Special thanks to Huck Meyer, Rosanne, and Alexandra Nagel—all who offered pieces of the puzzle.]
Mary K. Greer has made tarot her life work. Check here for reports of goings-on in the world of tarot and cartomancy, articles on the history and practice of tarot, and materials on other cartomancy decks. Sorry, I no longer write reviews. Contact me
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November 15, 2009 at 8:04 pm
ferolhumphrey
As always, Mary, your scholarship and dedication to the Tarot are far beyond the norm and we all benefit, as does the history of Tarot available for future enthusiasts. This type of inquiry, collation, and interpretation is most unusual and I for one am very impressed and very grateful.
November 16, 2009 at 1:53 am
Alexandra Nagel
Mary, sorry, but I’m not convinced of your argumentation. For instance, there are two suggestions in this sentence: “The flower being exchanged (a “pink” signifying loyalty in love?) could represent the passing on of the governorship and their love for the people of the Netherlands who are pictured in the background witnessing the change-over”. 1. A pink ‘signifying loyalty in love?’ – how common was that explanation in early 16th c Leyden? As far as I know, it was not common; a pink was signifying engagement between a man and a woman, or signifying what I called ‘christian love’. 2. The flower representing on the passing of governorship and love for the Dutch people – that to me is a very novel interpretation, one you not back up by other paintings in which something similar is envisioned. In the same line: you more or less indirectly explain the lower class dressed people as representing the Dutch people, but can you back this up with other paintings in which the same symbolism is used?
Two other sentences:
– “The daisy on the woman’s gown identifies her (a marguerite daisy).” The flowers of the corsage are as far as I know unidentified in the literature of art historians. When I saw the painting in Paris, I could not figure out which type of flowers were depicted for it’s too tiny to see. Right now and here they are turned into a ‘marguerite daisy’. In other words, this probalby is done in order to identify the woman as Margarethe of Austria.
– “Philip the Handsome (portrait above left) wears a necklace and hat similar to those in “The Fortune Teller”…” There are more paintings of men with hats and necklaces similar to the man doffing his hat on “The Fortune Teller”. The man on the painting is compared to Philip the Good ONLY. If you put a painting there of another man with a hat and necklace, it is equally possible to say that the man on the painting refers to another man. Certainly, there are more portraits of men with similar hats and necklaces, sometimes men holding a carnation (pink) between their fingers as they are betrothal paintings.
Other than that: To me, if the woman does refer to Margarethe of Austria, how to explain her rather open dress? In the other paintings of Margarethe of Austria available on the internet, her chest is never as low cut as here. Why would Lucas van Leyden have given this noble woman an ‘open’ kind of dress?
The painting of the woman playing cards with two men in the Museo Thyssen-Bornemisza, Madrid, is made after the original by Lucas van Leyden, and the museum itself informs that the explanation that you offer here is one of the interpretations possible: “Another vision is that of a struggle of two men for the love of a woman. The perfect and balanced composition, the interplay of lights and the precision of the drawing are its most outstanding features.” Offering the interpretation that you offer as the one and only one, is like making your interpretation of Lucas van Leyden 1508 painting fit. To me, it is not solid argumentation but reasoning to make a highly hypothetical idea look strong.
Hence I wonder, why can’t we live with the idea that it is impossible to figure out what Lucas van Leyden had in mind when he created this lovely picture in 1508?
November 16, 2009 at 7:10 am
Ross Caldwell
I find the interpretation as a political allegory very interesting, but I have not studied any of the interpretations, including Alexandra’s, so far. I like it because it involves playing cards, which would make it the earliest political allegory using a card game as the context that I know of.
However, like Alexandra, I am troubled by the “common” look of the woman, if we want her to be Margarethe of Austria.
Can anyone offer an interpretation of the secondary scene (which seemingly mimics the foreground scene), of the Fool offering something to the woman? Is it a plate? And if so, is it empty, and what does it mean for a Fool to be offering an empty plate?
November 16, 2009 at 2:58 pm
mkg
Alexandra & Ross –
I admit I get carried away and all the criticisms above are good ones.
The questions about the flowers are excellent. Alexandra has shown, in an article for the Playing Card Society, that carnations depicted betrothals in other 15th century Flemish paintings. So the picture could be nothing more than this. However I also found a reference to an older form of the word carnation as “coronation” (from Dictionary of Symbols and Imagery by Ad de Vries, published in Amsterdam, 1974).
The dress is more low cut than in Margarethe’s paintings, but not so much as to be impossible for a 14 year old boy painting a picture of a tragically romantic figure, beloved by all. He would only have had images of her when she was younger and not a widow to go on (I’ve added a couple.) The fur cuffs on both main figures mark them as of the upper classes and in great contrast to the men in the background (are the two slumming?). And, would a tavern harlot have been depicted wearing a cross and fur sleeves?
It’s also interesting that the 19th century woodcut identifies the man as “the Archduke of Austria,” which was one of Philip’s titles at the time of his death. Where did that assumption come from, I wonder.
It would help to see other paintings from the time of a man with that kind of hair and red hat who is identified as someone different than Philip. He is shown in the same red hat in at least one other painting.
The main question for me, of course, is whether or not this is cartomancy. There is no indication of anyone else playing, and there are no similar examples of a card game that don’t show other players and/or their cards that I know of until solitaire is invented about 300 years later.
The bit with the Fool is really intriguing and might open up the whole story. He’s the only person to whom others are looking – at least 4 of the 12 present. Alexandra suggested that the woman is offering him a cup (more like a saucer?) of wine but it’s hard to tell what is going on.
I welcome any more ideas.
November 16, 2009 at 7:45 pm
ferolhumphrey
The process of exploration, especially in group, is the fun of it for me.
November 16, 2009 at 11:10 pm
Alexandra Nagel
From Wikipedia http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dianthus_caryophyllus:
“Some scholars believe that the name “carnation” comes from “coronation” or “corone” (flower garlands), as it was one of the flowers used in Greek ceremonial crowns. Others think the name stems from the Latin “caro” (genitive “carnis”) (flesh), which refers to the original colour of the flower, or incarnatio (incarnation), which refers to the incarnation of God made flesh.”
“Pink carnations have the most symbolic and historical significance. According to a Christian legend, carnations first appeared on Earth as Jesus carried the Cross. The Virgin Mary shed tears at Jesus’ plight, and carnations sprang up from where her tears fell. Thus the pink carnation became the symbol of a mother’s undying love.”
November 20, 2009 at 5:31 am
fahrusha
As a tarot reader and a holder of an M.F.A. in painting, I am fascinated by your interpretation, and impressed by your dedication to the subject. Thank you!
November 20, 2009 at 11:07 pm
mkg
My friend, tarot author, Susan Levitt, wrote to me:
“This body pose is the iconography of the Annunciation, but here the pink flower replaces the white lily, the secular flower not the spiritual flower from Archangel Gabriel.”
A secular annunciation! To me that fits with Margarethe’s acceptance of her charge as governor of the Netherlands (mother of her people) upon the death of her husband and brother rather than to another marriage and physical motherhood.
Of course it could just be a betrothal painting of some unknown persons.
November 23, 2009 at 11:52 am
Yaotl
Wow! After reading this entry, I realize this must be one of the best tarot blogs, encompassing not only Tarot itself, but other brnches of wisdom as History and Art! Just read all those detailes depicted in the paintings.
Great!
November 23, 2009 at 12:43 pm
mkg
Yaoti – Thank you. I always maintain that a serious, life-long study of tarot will yield a tremendous liberal arts education.
November 24, 2009 at 3:05 am
Ross Caldwell
I’ve so far avoided reading too much about this painting, trying to see for myself what I can see. I have Alexandra’s article, which is very thorough and provides an excellent color reproduction, which shows the frame it is in and thereby slightly more of the foreground of the painting. I believe the viewer is supposed to be the player on the “other” side – this side – of the table, and “I” have just played the 4 or 5 of Clubs (or Spades).
The eye goes to the face of the woman in the center first. Then it goes down to her bosom, and her pendant, which seems to have a stone in the middle, perhaps a sapphire. The eye then goes down to her left hand, holding a pair of cards, and it appears she has just played a four of diamonds (no, not hearts).
From that hand, I believe the composition now wants us to follow to the right hand and the gesture of the offering/receiving the carnation. This leads to a brief regard of the look the man is giving her, and then immediately the eye is drawn to the doffed cap, which points to the face of the fool.
So our eye has followed the course of what looks like a capital G if you could draw it over the painting in arrows. The fool’s head is right over the central woman’s, and now we look at the fool.
He is looking intently at a woman who appears slightly distracted, but is offering him what you can tell in large image is a shallow cup of liquid, presumably wine (pewter cup). So our eye has now made almost completed a circle.
Finally, our eye is drawn to an abrupt end in the half-hidden hand of the standing woman, where the fingers go behind the central woman’s back – we don’t know what the standing woman is holding or doing with that hand, but it ends in the first figure, thus completing a circle.
Now we go down the central figure’s left sleeve and begin the circle again.
So I think I see a circular motif, which suggests a wheel of Fortune reading (center woman is Fortune, fool at the top, red-capped man rising, woman on the left falling, or perhaps asking the fool for a favor (a stupid thing to do). At the very bottom is us, outside of the picture, the missing player in the game (only indicated by the half-card shown in the very foreground).
Looking more closely at the central woman, we see there is a hidden card under her right sleeve. It is very clear in Alexandra’s large reproduction, although if it has an identity, it is not evident. But it is evident that it is intentional, so the artist wanted to suggest hiddenness, perhaps deception. Is she deceiving the man she is giving the carnation to?
Now we have to interpret that gesture – is she giving or receiving? I say giving the carnation, as he is the one in the supplicating gesture and she is central, the position of authority in the picture. We note that she has a white and a pink carnation pinned to her left chest – is she of divided heart? Has she given her heart to one, but her hand to another?
Hard to say, but I haven’t been able to incorporate the jug into my interpretation yet.
November 24, 2009 at 2:02 pm
mkg
Ross – Thank you so much for just looking closely at the picture. It’s a reminder that the most basic appreciation of any work of visual art is through the viewer’s direct experience of it. And even the artist can’t control that—no matter the artist’s intent.
I can follow everything you describe. Yes, it is possible to see a stack of cards with one laid next to it (4? of Spades or Clubs?) in the very bottom of the other version of the painting. And you can see that there is an inner cloth lining at the woman’s neckline that makes it only slightly less riské. I don’t see the sapphire at the center of the cross (wrong – see next comment).
It’s curious as to why no one is paying attention to the cards except the woman. The focus is divided among several other groups. In the back left are three men and a fool’s bauble (which seems to be looking in on their conversation). In the back right are five people—the fool and four others focused entirely on him. The couple in front are in their own isolated bubble. Is she telling him, “Yes, I’ll meet with you as soon as this game is over? But go away right now.” I mean, isn’t everyone else privy to the “promise” implied in the flower – (if she’s giving it to him).
To me, my attention goes first of all to the woman’s head with her white whimple (a very chaste headcovering). Then I notice the cards and then the flower, and continuing as you did, Ross. Once I’m familiar with the image, however, it seems apparent that a more subtle but stronger focus is on the fool (given the dynamics of the people in the picture).
The flowers on the woman’s dress seem to be a posy. A white four-petaled flower stands out with a couple of vague pink flowers behind – so it’s anyone’s guess as to whether it’s supposed to be a marguarite daisy.
November 24, 2009 at 4:15 pm
mkg
Oops – Ross is right about the necklace being more of a jewel than a cross! Thanks for sending me the blow-up, Ross.
One other thing that counters my theory is the “knot of Isis” in the girdle of the woman. Although I doubt if it is meant to reference Egyptian iconography, it can be opened via a simple tug that seems to suggest a certain looseness of morals. However, the fur cuffs would, I think, make her one of the upper-classes.
What a conundrum – which is what makes this picture so interesting.
November 24, 2009 at 4:40 pm
Ross Caldwell
You’re welcome, Mary!
I hadn’t noticed, and didn’t know about, the “knot of Isis” – what a nice fashion that should come back.
Another detail only visible – barely – in Alexandra’s picture, is the figure *between* the Fool and the guy looking at him to his immediate right.
This middle figure is deep in the shadows, his eyes are hidden but his face is pointed directly at the viewer, and on his hat he appears to be wearing a jewel of the same shape as that on the woman’s chest.
It would be good to get an even more detailed look at this painting.
November 26, 2009 at 1:52 am
ferolhumphrey
Great discussion! And yes, Yaotl, this is THE BEST Tarot blog. Ha ha! But I am serious. True passion and careful inquiry yield wonderful results for all. Even when we disagree, a careful investigation, especially when there is no real agenda being furthered, make the process delicious and historical. To my knowledge, anyway, no one else but Mary does this kind of research. We benefit. It would not be half so satisfying if she were not so careful, or if she did not truly consider feedback. But then, that is why people like Mary Greer. Enough. While it is all true, I am not trying to embarrass her.
November 26, 2009 at 2:27 pm
mkg
Ferol – Kind words! But I have to say that there are many people researching the history of Tarot including looking into pictures from the period of its origins. A good many of these people can be found at Aeclectic’s Tarot Forum in the History and Research section and at The Tarot History Forum. I should also mention trionfi.com, taropedia, and the Association for Tarot Studies. There are more but these can get you started, and I am deeply indebted to them.
Basically, the rules at the history forums say you can speculate as long as you clearly state where you are doing so. Otherwise, others are free to question your facts and sources and expect you to produce them. I’m afraid that many pet theories get crushed, but people at these sites have come up with lots of tidbits of new information, translations of known works and a refreshing clarification and ordering of the facts.
November 26, 2009 at 9:53 pm
ferolhumphrey
Oh, well this is good to know, Mary, thank you. I have focused my attention in other areas during my time in Tarot, so I am working my way along making discoveries a little at a time. I will definitely check these resources. Still, I wonder if anyone else is looking at old paintings portraying playing cards. That feels like a MKG thing. Perhaps not, I shall investigate.
November 27, 2009 at 3:04 pm
mkg
Ferol – I’ve been doing this and have over 200 paintings, prints and postcards from the 16th to early 20th century. I will soon be presenting these at an academic conference and then featuring them and my analysis of them on a gallery on this blog.
November 27, 2009 at 9:33 pm
ferolhumphrey
Well, there you have it, an area of special passion and focus~ I thought so~ that is what I meant. I don’t want to misinform anyone, and have no wish to overdo the praise, but when I sincerely feel these things I do think it is correct to say so, for the benefit of those who are new to the study of the cards. No matter how well someone is known, there are still nearly 7 billion people in the world. Since I teach Tarot myself, I know that my expression of honest praise for truly outstanding teachers keeps things in balance for me. I appreciate the great researchers and scholars of Tarot, and your work does feel unique. I related this way to your scholarship on The Women of the Golden Dawn, as well.
August 11, 2015 at 6:41 am
David Vine
In all of this discussion of the symbolic minutiae of the two paintings, valuable certainly, are we perhaps not seeing the forest for the trees? Why be hesitant to see a card reading in the setting of the first painting in which the lady alone is seated at a table and the other figures, all standing, could easily be seen as evincing interest, surprise, dissension, even consternation over what she has just pronounced? (Mary’s sage remark about the viewer’s direct experience…) In contrast, in the second painting, where everyone is seated holding a hand of cards, we clearly have a game in progress. The metaphor Mary suggests as a possibility for the first would only work if card reading was a known practice, one that predated the painting. One as erudite as Taylor was convinced, along with considerable other evidence, by the etching in the “Magasin Pittoresque,” without the information Ross turned up about card reading in mid-fifteenth-century Spain. In either case, or both, a pall is happily cast over Decker, Dummett & Depaulis’ disparaging thesis which turns, largely, on their assertion that “…the practice of fortunetelling the future by means of playing cards does not appear to have been practised in Western Europe with cards of any kind until much before the XVIII century.” (A Wicked Pack of Cards, p. 47)