At the RSA 2018, I commented on three papers that art historians Dr. Jorge Sebastián Lozano, Dr. Víctor Mínguez Cornelles and Dr. Inmaculada Rodríguez Moya presented in the session: “Between Word and Image: Verbal-Visual Representations of Sixteenth- and Seventeenth-Century Spanish Royal Women,” which I organized, and Dr. Julie Campbell chaired.

This is what I said:

Over the last few weeks, I’ve been watching videos on Youtube about twin-flames; these are souls that were once one, that have separated, and are on a journey to reunite. It can take forever, but it eventually happens, if they are patient, allowing God’s plan to work out. When they unite, the videos say, they make the world a better place; but, there are some issues and suggestions that we should all be aware of, when it comes to twin-flames, and that the videos address as well. For example, what to do when your twin-flame is married to someone else (oops), what to do when your twin-flame ignores you, and how to deal with the great emotional intensity when the unbreakable reunion finally occurs.

Noa Yaari, I Love You, 2018

Word and image relation is not so different from twin-flame connection; it, too, manifests varied measures of similarity, distance, attraction, and the potential to create something whole with an everlasting quality. The three papers that we have just heard tell us a story about the use of word-and-image relation to establish status and legacy for three 16^th and 17^th century Spanish royal women. These papers show that throughout history, people understood how the human mind reacts to combinations of words and images. We irresistibly – probably unconsciously – accept verbal-visual constellations as accurate representations of whatever they stand for. And while we are wired to do so, what determines the form of these hybrid representations is the rise of specific needs and availability of verbal and visual resources.

Noa Yaari, I Love You, 2018

According to Jorge’s paper, when the beauty of Empress Isabella became a necessity, it wasn’t essential to have her around, nor any of the first-hand testimonies of her appearance. Ironically, as Jorge points out, the instillation of the Empress’s beauty in the collective memory was due to the narratives on St. Francis of Borgia, who allegedly converted, traumatized, after seeing his patron’s corpse. Painting beautiful portraits of the Empress, on the one hand, and conveying how devastating it was to see her losing that beauty, on the other, created an immortal image of a mortal woman.

Noa Yaari, I Love You, 2018

As Victor’s paper shows, Queen Isabella of Valois became a symbol of a new peaceful and powerful era in Spanish history; her signification as such was possible through her marriage to Philip II, but more importantly, through crossing different semiotic systems in relation to her. The juxtaposition of the motto “IAM FELICTER OMNIA” (“Everything now felicitously”), an image of a sun (with everything that it symbolizes) and an image of a moon (with its own symbolism) creates a representation of a new situation in global politics. A comparison between the 1559 and the 1560 emblems reveals the crucial role of the spatial-relation between words and images in generating a specific meaning; in the later emblem, we see the motto free from its ribbon and closer to the two celestial bodies, which are much more similar now, signifying that politics have become more felicitous not only on the global level, but also between the “sun” and the “moon.” As Victor suggests, the later emblem radiates to the world that Spain is in the hands of a strong ruling couple.

Noa Yaari, I Love You, 2018

Finally, Inma’s paper demonstrates the complex connection between one’s life and death and their verbal-visual representations. For example, before Isabella Clara Eugenia died in 1633, she requested to be buried in a specific chapel, in a particular church with a monument and double-tomb for herself and her cousin; however, her request was never entirely fulfilled, as her gravestone is, in fact, relatively modest and simple. As Inma points out, by using verbal and visual rhetorical devices, Puget dele Serre made his illustrated eulogy of Isabella her mausoleum and portrait. In this case, we could argue, one doesn’t sit in but with the place to contemplate the deceased’s spiritual and political virtues. More generally, perhaps in addition to the various kinds of rhetoric that are used in illustrated books, the fact that the books require direct touch and activity from the readers fosters the memory of their content. At any rate, the three papers that we have heard today indicate that 16^th and 17^th century Spanish culture had found a way to ensure that their royal women’s legacy will burn forever. The fact that we are discussing them today suggests that so far so good.

Noa Yaari, I Love You, 2018