Hebrew medieval illuminated manuscripts from the Iberian Peninsula reflect both a continuing visual tradition that had its origins in Near Eastern Hebrew manuscripts and Islamic as well as Christian visual languages. These complex ties are clearly manifest in the Catalan Micrography Maḥzor for the High Holidays (Jerusalem, National Library of Israel, Heb 8º6527) ascribed to Barcelona between 1336 and 1346 ¹ . The decorations in the Masora reflects the complex visual traditions evident in Hebrew medieval manuscripts from the Iberian Peninsula, which echo both Near Eastern Hebrew and Islamic manuscripts and Christian visual language. The principal and singular decorative element in this manuscript is the figured micrography—the singular Jewish scribal art usually fashioned from Masoretic annotations formed into the contour of decorative designs in micrographic script ² . Micrography decorations in this unique Maḥzor appear on twenty-three full-page panels set in two quires at the beginning of the manuscript and thirty-six margin decorations, mostly candelabra trees, adjacent to the text ³ . These designs manifest synergetic relationships between the micrography-forming text, the images shaped by this text, and the piyyuṭim texts themselves. Moreover, the full-page micrography designs make up a theosophical and historiosophical cycle that indicates an association with the Ramban-Rashba School of Kabbalah ⁴ , as well as the Zoharic texts’ perception of cyclical time in connection with Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur ⁵ , while the candelabra trees serve as markers that emphasize liturgical ideas associated with the essence of the day ⁶ . These margin designs reflect synergetic relationships between the micrography-forming text, the images shaped by this text, and the piyyuṭ texts themselves. The candelabra trees in the Maḥzor serve to emphasize the liturgical ideas associated with the essence of the day. In the Rosh Hashanah segment (fols. 15v-38v), the candelabra trees are found next to the three segments of added benedictions on the Musaff prayer: malkhuyot (‘Kingship’), zikhronot (‘remembrance’) and shofarot (‘shofar verses’), the three elements associated with the holy day. The candelabra trees within the Yom Kippur section are found next to the piyyuṭim that express the obligation to repent, avoiding sin, and the nihility of man (fols. 38v-141v) ⁷ .

The margin decoration found on fol. 85v, which is within the Yom Kippur piyyuṭim section, is not a candelabrum tree but a composite decoration formed from both Islamic and Christian designs (Fig. 1). In this paper I will demonstrate that this aggregate decoration was formed by the scribe-artist of the Maḥzor to form a unique eschatological message drawing not only from Christian and Islamic images iconography, but also from related literature modified to strengthen the Jewish stance.

On the top of the first pair is an octagonal tile known as the Islamic eight-point star (rubʿal-ḥizb) formed by two overlapping squares. This is set above a motif composed of three-parts, which could represent the Islamic hanging globular-footed mihrab lamp (Fig. 2) ⁸ . This motif is found in numerous manuscripts, including the well-known Barcelona Haggadah (London, British Library Add. 14761, fol. 65v) ⁹ . The lower pair consists of two animals adapted from Latin bestiaries: the upper one of two is a canine of sorts with a trifoliate clover-shaped protruding tongue. The lower one, a beast with a long neck and a horn, holds the other animal’s tail in its mouth. Such aggregate motifs, which were borrowed from the Iberian Peninsula’s Islamic and Christian artistic languages, are found in contemporary manuscripts and on their bindings. They can also be seen in secular architecture and synagogue decorations in buildings constructed by Mudejars in fourteenth-century Christian Iberia ¹⁰ , seen, for example, on the painted beam from the Palau d’Aguilar in Barcelona (Fig. 3) ¹¹ .

Extensive research has led to the conclusion that the appearance of such modified Christian and Islamic models in Jewish art implies that Iberian Jewish scribes and scholars were immersed in their surrounding cultural, artistic, and literary milieu. The Iberian cultural fabric was neither a golden age nor a totally dolorous existence nor was it an idyllic “Convivencia” as termed in previous literature ¹² . However, the transcultural blending manifests ‘conscious’ borrowing and adaptation, which was a central element in its history and its art. These adaptations reflect not only the transcultural aspects of the respective ethnicities but the mutual exchange of ideas that were deliberately and consciously plaited by scholars and artists to create a rich cultural and artistic tapestry. “Plaiting” is used here as a term to indicate an active, conscious, and purposeful cultural borrowing and translation from surrounding cultures employed by the medieval Iberian scholars, scribes, and artists. This may be a somewhat better term in the context of the history and culture of medieval Iberia as it emphasizes not only the outcome of acculturation, immersion, cultural hybridity and so forth, but accents a conscious manipulation and interplay of chosen elements among cultures. Moreover, plaiting connotes a positive action that stresses the conscious and purposeful engagements undertaken to plait the forms.

Understanding the Maḥzor’s scribe-micrographer-artist’s conscious mediation between the forming texts and the iconography that he created with it, which is vividly apparent in the full-page micrography decorations, in the forming texts of the candelabra trees, and in the ties to the texts of the piyyuṭim themselves, suggests that this singular composite margin decoration is a meaningful element that merits attention ¹³ .

The micrography on fol. 85v (see Fig. 1) adorns Rabbi Abraham ibn Ezra’s (1164-1089) tokhaḥah (‘self-rebuke’) ישני לב מה לכם (‘Oh you whose hearts sleep, what is wrong that you do not inspect yourselves?’) ¹⁴ , which was penned with the ʾashrei chapter ¹⁵ . It is easy to read this decoration as a simple association between the animals figured at the bottom of the design and a line from the rebuke found on the recto page of the opening: ואם לא ידעתם כבהמות נחשבים והמתים הם טובים (‘For if you do not realize this/ Tantamount to beasts you’ll be, it would be better to be dead’) ¹⁶ . This correlation conceptualizes the central idea of the piyyuṭ, which calls upon the reader to awaken from his base “animal soul” cognition ¹⁷ and acknowledge his essence and vocation—consciousness of the Creator and His rule of the world and the aspiration and adherence of the soul to its higher source ¹⁸ . The Islamic eight-point star is thought to be a representation of cosmological order as well as a visual metaphor for the “eight bearers of the Throne”—a symbol of divine law ¹⁹ . This concept parallels the content of Ibn Ezra’s rebuke, which clearly reflects the scribe-micrographer’s tight plaiting of text and image.

In recent years, the understanding that there is a connection between micrography-forming texts and the images they create has led to a methodological change in micrography studies, which now mandate reading the micrography-forming texts in their entirety even when they are set into a design. Thus, a full evaluation of the forming text of the decoration under discussion is essential. The essence of the text that shapes this design—the ʾashrei chapter in Psalms—which appears eight times in the Maḥzor, is an expression of one’s acceptance of the Kingdom of Heaven. The order of the ten praises within these verses parallels the order of the ten sefirot, which allude to God’s creative power, which is revealed in the dynamic unity within the structure ²⁰ . The acknowledgment of such reciprocal ties leads me to consider the exact placement of the design, the relationship among the four elements that form it, and their iconographical interpretation vis-à-vis the lines of the piyyuṭ next to which they were placed. The penning is clockwise and each element was penned separately in a downward flow (Fig. 4) ²¹ .

Both Islamic art motifs—the eight-point star and the mihrab lamp—were set next to the first four verses of the rebuke, which describes man’s need to awaken and acknowledge God’s cosmic order mirrored within his soul, through which he can connect and communicate with the infinite and omniscient God ²² . The eight-point star, which as noted above, is an expression of cosmological order and a visual metaphor for the representation of the divine law—corresponds not only to the verses of the ʾashrei chapter, but also to lines 1-5 of the rebuke, which admonish the reader to recognize God (Fig. 4; Appendix lines 1-3) ²³ . The first animal is drawn next to lines 5-12 of the piyyuṭ, which talk about the structure of the immortal soul, about the heart—the chariot for the intellectualizing soul (נשמה משכלת; neshamah maskelet)—and about the limbs, which serve as gates to guard man from his base inclination. The verses that shape this animal recount the praise of God by His faithful, who bless Him and tell of His majesty and might (Ps. 145:5-13). The text that forms the second animal, which is figured next to lines 12-17 of the piyyuṭ, speaks of man’s decline when he is not guided by his soul ²⁴ . The verses that penned the image are directed to all who call upon God with sincerity, who will succeed, while the wicked, who ignore Him, will perish (Ps. 145:15-20).

In “Seeing the Light Enacting the Divine” ²⁵ , Stephennie Mulder contends that works of art harbor active and phenomenological effects and that rather than inquiring as to what a work of art means or what it says, we should ask: “How does it function as an active agent in the world to create change or reinforce ideas or beliefs within social systems?” ²⁶ . It is along this path that we should think about this margin decoration. As Mulder notes, the mihrab lamp iconography served not only as an association with God’s light but was also an “active polyvalent image, one that functioned differently depending upon the beholders and the visual narrative they constructed around the experience of encountering the image in its context” ²⁷ . Thus, we could consider that the eight-point star tile that alludes, as noted, to the eight bearers of the Throne also relates to the āyat al-kursī (Throne Verse: sūrah 2:255). It is most important for our understanding to know that the mihrab lamp figure is also at times surrounded by the Throne Verse, which speaks of the supremacy, infallibility, and the greatness of God. The lamp in the design on fol. 85v is penned with Ps. 145:2-4 which speck of God’s immeasurable greatness (Appendix lines 4-6).

In connection with the lamp motif, it has long been recognized that the image of the radiant lamp has a visual and linguistic relationship to the Qur’anic Verse of Light (āyat an-nūr: sūrah 24:35) and its medieval exegeses. As noted by Margaret Graves, “The image of the radiant lamp in both the Qur’anic text and its subsequent mental and material envisionings represents a symbiotic engagement between the visual and verbal realms” ²⁸ . Barry Flood Finbarr extrapolates on the associations among the exegeses of the pearl, the pearl-like star (kawkab durra), and the lamp and their semiotic relationships to luminosity and to stars ²⁹ . A ninth-century eight-point star motif in lieu of a lamp in the flat mihrab featured in the mosque of Ibn Ṭūlūn in Cairo supports this notion, which may indicate an interchangeability or conflation or perhaps even a visual “sentence” with two hemistiches relating to the meanings of these forms. Another image that may reflect this connection can be found on a marble mihrab tile from Afghanistan, ca. 1100, that depicts a lamp hanging from an eight-point star set in a scalloped niche ³⁰ . In his discussion of the pearl-lamp association in the scalloped niche in the Umayyad Damascus Mosque, Flood Finbarr elucidates the ties among the eight-point star, the lamp, the scalloped shell, and the mihrab niche as a unit indicating a Qur’anic imagery of light that echoes earlier metaphorical equivalents of the lamp and the radiance of Paradise in both Judaism and Christianity ³¹ .

Exegeses on the Qur’anic Verse of Light include mystical commentaries that interpret the physical lamp as a symbol and a reminder of and “pointer” to divine light ³² , a metaphor for the guidance from ignorance to illumination. This idea is reflected, for example, on a mihrab tile from Afghanistan, Ghaznavid Dynasty, ca. 1100, where the text surrounding the image of the mihrab lamp with the eight-point star above it is Sūrat at-Tawbah (‘The Repentance’: sūrah 9). The scribe-micrographer and artist’s knowledgeable inclusion of Islamic art models is clearly evident in the Maḥzor’s full-page panel cycle ³³ . Further, the pair of animals in the design can be easily understood as a symbolization of the beastly cognition from which man must awaken so as to attain enlightenment—a well-known concept in Jewish and Islamic writings. Moreover, identifying these animals as two specific creatures in bestiary literature enhances our perception of the complexity and import of this margin decoration’s mélange.

The bestiary collection that gained popularity in northern Europe from the late twelfth through the fourteenth century was a compendia of symbolic and theological content that was also widely known and utilized for sermonizing ³⁴ . Shyovitz demonstrates that the German Pietists were familiar with this Christian theological genre and its sermon literature and that beginning in the thirteenth century, the same literature was also compiled in Sefarad ³⁵ . Further, it can be shown that the scribe-artist-micrographer of the Catalan Micrography Maḥzor adapted images from Christian ethical treatises such as the Somme-le-Roy (‘The Book of Vices and Virtues’). We see evidence of this kind of adaptation in the Maḥzor in the female figure in the unexecuted under-drawing on fol. 9v (decipherable under the visible vine scroll) that is holding a trifoliate flower closed into a single bud (Fig. 5). In Christian art such a depiction is a personification of Humility, a virtue identified with the Virgin, which represents Maria-Ecclesia. Some depictions such as the one on an ivory book cover by the Metz School artist, ca. 1000, now in the treasury of the Basilica of Our Lady in Tongeren, Belgium, shows her holding a trifoliate flowering branch symbolizing the Trinity and salvation ³⁶ . In the Maḥzor, this modified version of the Christian model portrays the Shekhinah (‘the in-dwelling of the Divine Presence’) ³⁷ . It is entirely possible that the Maḥzor’s scribe-micrographer was familiar with bestiary material owing to his association with the Ferrer Bassa atelier. The dating of the Maḥzor to 1336-1346 corresponds not only to the period in which the vernacular bestiary literature was popular but also reflects the contemporaneous translation of rhetorical treatises into visual sermons, which made these texts readily available ³⁸ .

The upper canine-like animal with a protruding trifoliate clover-shaped tongue and apostrophe-like lines on its body could be therefore interpreted as a hyena (see Fig. 1). Although a hyena is usually depicted devouring a corpse ³⁹ , images of the animal with a vegetal tongue can be found in the bestiary section of a miscellany produced in Saint-Omer or Therouanne around 1277 (Paul Getty Museum, MS Ludwig xv 4, fol. 88; Fig. 6) ⁴⁰ . This identification strengthens the possibility that there were North French influences on the Maḥzor scribe-artist. I posited this idea in connection with the female image in the unexecuted drawing on fol. 9v, which is similar, as noted, to the one on an ivory book cover from Metz. This conclusion not only points to the scribe’s likely familiarity with Ashkenazi counter-Christian polemic sources ⁴¹ , but also reinforces the notion that the upper animal is a hyena, similar to the one depicted in the Paul Getty Museum MS Ludwig xv 4, fol. 88—also a North French model (see Fig. 6).

The hyena, considered to be sexually ambiguous, became a symbol of moral duplicity and guile and was thus a Christian reference to Jews who initially held to the true covenant and then turned to idols ⁴² . I have also argued that not only does the female figure on fol. 9v represent the Shekhinah but that the closing of the trifoliate flower into a single bud not only symbolizes a rejection of the Trinity but also clearly accents the unity of the Deity ⁴³ . Keeping this in mind, we can read the image on fol. 85v as a continuation of this polemic. We can consider the trifoliate element in the hyena’s mouth as not simply its tongue but as a substitute for the animal’s common attribute—the corpse. It is tempting to suggest that the scribe depicted the hyena-Jew devouring the Trinity, which would imply that the redemption of Israel depends on the fall of Christianity ⁴⁴ .

In accord with that idea, the lower image, an animal with a long neck and one long horn protruding from its forehead that holds on to the hyena’s tail in its mouth, most probably symbolizes a monoceros, the Latin word for rhinoceros, which can be thought of as a kind of unicorn (see Fig. 1). The monoceros and the unicorn are often conflated and they can only be properly identified by reading the accompanying bestiary text. The monoceros is usually larger, with a very long horn, and that motif does not include the maiden usually found in the unicorn model ⁴⁵ . Both the monoceros and the unicorn are well-known symbols of Christ ⁴⁶ . As the bottom animal in the illustration is holding onto the other by its tail, we should read the two creatures as a single unit.

The verses that penned the hyena, which were taken from the ʾashrei text (Ps. 145:5-13; see Fig. 4; Appendix lines 7-17), talk about the faithful, who praise God, bless Him, tell of his majesty and might, and make His mighty acts known among men. Taking this into account, the hyena therefore could represent the Jewish believer.

If we reflect on the formal parallel that exists between the shape of the lamp and the trefoil form of the tongue of the animal directly beneath it, then we can read it against the verse that forms the tongue: “Thy kingship is an eternal kingship; Your dominion is for all generations” (Ps. 145:13; Appendix line 17). The similarity between the lamp and the hyena-Jew’s trefoil tongue requires that we reconsider the meaning of the animal’s tongue. Rather than a parallel of the Trinity, might it have been an attempt to instruct the viewer that taking the Word of God and his teaching can elevate the soul and engage the believer in higher encounters and the highest of lights?

The text that forms the monoceros declares that all people who call upon God with sincerity will be answered and that the wicked will perish (Ps. 145:15-20; see Fig. 4; Appendix lines 18-25). The unicorn/monoceros representation of Jesus can be shown to have been altered in Jewish art to represent the Messiah son of Yosef. The lion that appears as its partner signifies the Messiah son of David. In the design here, although there is a monoceros, the animal above it cannot be identified as a lion as it has no mane and more closely resembles a dog. Moreover, the Messiah son of Joseph is the first Messiah to appear and therefore would have been expected to lead the lion and not hold on to its tail ⁴⁷ . We should then realize its iconographic use to remain a representation of Christ or Christianity.

Another example that supports understanding such a reading and the monoceros model as a representation of the multitudes of Gentiles joining the People of Israel can be found in the Cervera Bible (Lisbon, Biblioteca Nacional, MS il. 72, fol. 399r; Fig. 7) a renowned Sefardi Bible manuscript richly illuminated ⁴⁸ . The masorete who added the masoretic notes was the renowned scribe and masorete Yehoshua Ibn Gaon whose work includes figured micrography ⁴⁹ . Visual links between the micrography designs and the masoretic forming texts are not always direct or even discernible. However, the decorations added by the illuminator of the manuscript—Joseph Hazarfati (‘the Frenchman’)—point to the associations he formulated between the image and the main biblical text or the top masorah magna. On fol. 399r, the top two lines of the masorah magna were penned above the two columns of text ⁵⁰ . The lower of the two lines were copied above each column segment, and the top line forms an arc that bridges the space between the two columns. In the vacant space between these two masorah magna lines, Joseph Hazarfati added an animal with a long neck that resembles a monoceros. The masorah magna referrals are to the word erev (ערב ‘mixed multitude’), which is only cited twice: Exodus 12:36 and Nehemiah 13:3 ⁵¹ . A commentary attributed to RaSHI explains that the word references כל תערובות העובדי כוכבים ומזלות (‘all mixed multitudes of idolaters’).

The possibility that the Maḥzor’s scribe used North French models, a notion implied by the inclusion of both the female figure in the unexecuted under-drawing on fol. 9v and the hyena (see Figs. 5 and 7, respectively) supports the suggestion that the interpretation of the monoceros as a symbol of the Gentile masses, which was accepted among North French Jewish commentators, was also known to the Sefardi scribes ⁵² . These understandings lend themselves to the idea that the monoceros holding on to the hyena’s tail and tagging along with it in its ascent toward the eight-point star that symbolizes God’s divine law.

In contrast to the Ashkenazi notion of vengeful redemption, which requires the fall of Christianity, the Sefardi concept views redemption as a selective war against Evil and the enemies that delay the messianic revelation. This process includes all who join the People of Israel in the recognition of God will be redeemed as well ⁵³ . Appropriating the well identified symbol of the hyena with Jews and having the Monoceros a known symbol for Christ/Christianity hold onto the hyena’s tail would aloud to this joint passage towards redemption and enlightenment. Therefore, we witness here a unique representation of the Sefardi concept of redemption ⁵⁴ .

If this model of the monoceros was known to the Catalan Micrography Maḥzor’s scribe, his modifications and inversion of its content created a strong subversive polemic suggesting that Judaism is the “true” leader. His use of North French models is significant because it shows the scope of his knowledge and reveals his familiarity with bestiary material. It is tempting to suggest that he also borrowed and manipulated the models from the fourth group of animals in the Second-Family bestiaries, which includes the unicorn, the beaver, and the hyena. The latter two representing Vice as the snare of the devil, and the complete group associated with the teaching that only following Christ will counter this snare ⁵⁵ . By utilizing the hyena as leading the unicorn/monocerous, he inverted the bestiary meaning to support a Jewish stance of redemption. Although almost all bestiaries include hyenas and unicorns, none of those extant from Catalonia are of the Second Family, which further suggests that the Maḥzor’s scribe had a knowledge of Northern French literature and artistic models ⁵⁶ .

The known symbolism of these animals and the inversion of their meanings indeed manifest this scribe-artist and sage’s apprehension of his surrounding cultural literary and artistic milieu and its influence on his visualization of the Sefardi Jewish concept of redemption ⁵⁷ . He chose to invert the derogatory image of Jews to represent the true benevolent believer who will lead the process of redemption ⁵⁸ . The use of the ʾashrei text to form the hyena’s tongue reinforces this reading: “Your kingship is an eternal kingship; Your dominion is for all generations” (Ps. 145:13; Appendix lines 17) ⁵⁹ . This verse speaks of a unity within one almighty God for all nations. Although the penning of this aggregate design is downward, following the visual movement of the animals indicates an upward flow as well, which allows for the understanding that the choreography of this figured micrography embraces a twofold “reading” direction. The first is downward along the piyyuṭ text lines and the flow of the figured micrography text—a movement from the heavenly edict of God calling upon man to awaken from his base existence—and the second flows visually upward indicating that repentance and adherence to the true light of God will lead to salvation.

These visual and textual allusions demonstrate the scribe’s deep understanding and purposeful manipulation of the various borrowed artistic models along with their iconographical and textual content that he used to embellish Ibn Ezra’s piyyuṭ, which calls upon man to awaken, repent, and ascend to God’s light. If we read the composite image in this light, we realize that the associations among the image’s forming text, the main text, and the design reveal this margin decoration to be an element that clearly adds layers of understanding to the piyyuṭ itself.

The underlying concepts in the piyyuṭ reflect a direct link to the second chapter in Ibn Paquda’s חובות הלבבות (ḥobot halebabot: Duties of the Heart): ‘Gate of Examination’ (שער הבחינה) that was inspired by Sufism. This is important as Ibn Ezra waived his own commentary on Job 19:26 in favor of Ibn Paquda’s ⁶⁰ . Sufism centers on an internal journey of self-purification and transformation to get closer to God—the eternal light as recounted in the Light Verse, which is attained through mystical experiences and the renunciation of sin ⁶¹ . The fact that a scribe-artist-micrographer in Barcelona in 1336-1346 figured an Islamic eight-point star and mihrab lamp as a margin decoration implies a conscious plaiting of concepts and motifs from the surrounding artistic and literary Islamic milieu. It also reflects an affinity to the concept of light in Islam and Neoplatonic notions of ascension to attain the realm of the heavenly Throne. Moreover, we know that the Maḥzor scribe was affiliated with Nahmanides’s kabbalistic circle, which also adapted Neoplatonic concepts ⁶² . As noted by Haviva Pedaya, light is one of three elements that can “express the experience of divine abundance flowing into man in a prophetic state: the spirit, the water, and the light. ... Each of these images is deeply connected to the desire to return to the source and to be inspired by its emanation and abundance” ⁶³ .

The scribe may have used the eight-point star and mihrab lamp to symbolize the attainment of enlightenment, which reflects concepts from the Barcelonan School of Kabbalah to which he belonged ⁶⁴ . These motifs might be a reflection of the school’s esoteric interpretations regarding the importance of Binah (‘Understanding’), the eighth emanation from man (the third emanated), which symbolizes the highest level that man can approach to the Divine Intellect—one that he cannot fully achieve. Implying such an ascension suggests the removal of veils between man and God and man’s ultimate attainment of light reaching to the Binah, the junction between the world of emanation and the world of Creation ⁶⁵ . However, recent research has shown that, contrary to earlier contentions, although it took Ṣūfī concepts from the East into account, Iberian mysticism was not synonymous with Eastern Sufism and its mysticism was actually a unique branch ⁶⁶ . Even Ibn Paquda’s Duties of the Hearts—clearly a Ṣūfī treatise—includes Neoplatonic ideas ⁶⁷ .

In al-Andalus, the pioneers of the Islamic mystical tradition, the Muʿtabirun (‘Contemplators’), championed a synthesis between Muslim scriptural sources and Neoplatonic cosmology, and Ayala Eliyahu explores the sharing of mystical and philosophical concepts in the writings of Ibn Barrajan and Jewish scholars such as Ibn Ezra ⁶⁸ . The early Islamic mystics in al-Andalus were responsible for shaping a new intellectual approach that was erroneously characterized as Ṣūfī ⁶⁹ . Whereas Eastern Sufism, as noted, emphasizes the moral purification of man so that he can get closer to God, Western Iberian mysticism, although somewhat similar to Eastern Ṣūfī concepts ⁷⁰ , is Neoplatonic-inspired theosophy influenced by the writings of the Ismāʿīliyya (‘Sincere Brethren’), which deal with theosophical concepts of the divine world ⁷¹ . Contemporary scholars have noted the reciprocity between Islamic Iberian mysticism and Kabbalah ⁷² . When Iberia was under Islamic rule, Arabic was the principal cultural language, as is evident in the Jewish sages’ use of Judeo-Arabic in, for example, Duties of the Hearts but the question is whether such works were accessible to Jewish scholars under Christian rule when Romance languages ruled. Can we assume that a scholar in Barcelona in the early fourteenth century would know of Iberian mystical writings in their original language?

It is evident that the knowledge of Arabic and familiarity with Arabic Islamic literature including mystical writings continued among the Jews of Castile and Aragon through the first decades of the fifteenth century. In fact, Barcelona also remained a center for the learning of Arabic throughout this period and Jewish sages and kabbalists there retained their interest in Islamic literature, including the mystical writings ⁷³ . A noted example is Maimonides’s treatise on Galen written in Judeo-Arabic, which was illuminated in the Ferrer Bassa atelier in Barcelona in 1345-1348 (BnF, Hebr. 1203, fol. 45v), the same atelier with which the Maḥzor’s scribe was affiliated ⁷⁴ . As Iberian Islamic mystical writing circulated in northern Iberia, the Maḥzor’s scribe was most likely aware of the work of the renowned Ṣūfī Abu Ḥamid al-Ghazālī’ (1056/7-1111) ⁷⁵ , whose esoteric treatise Mishkāt al-anwār (‘The Niche of Lights’) was translated into Hebrew several times during the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries ⁷⁶ . The visual sermon that the Maḥzor’s scribe shaped here reflects a deep understanding of bestiary symbolism and Islamic art models and their theological content ⁷⁷ . His modification of the bestiary’s derogatory import of the hyena-Jew and his use of the monoceros to imply its altered Jewish meaning as the Gentile multitudes tie in with his utilization of both the star motif and the mihrab lamp. Retaining their Islamic mystical content allowed him not only to fully echo the thoughts of Ibn Ezra’s piyyuṭ but also to create a tale of the final redemption, which will culminate with the transcendence to eternal light and the Throne ⁷⁸ . He tied his knowledge of these literatures into Jewish thought and Kabbalah and used it to enhance Jewish concepts of repentance, enlightenment, and redemption, forging a message that is also in gratiam Judaeis ⁷⁹ .

In viewing this image, we see the visual and literary utilization and appropriation of cross-cultural artistic models. Moreover, this plaiting of cross-cultural models also applies a phenomenological effect and imprint wielded to create an active agent in the world. This is done so as to reinforce beliefs within social systems by visualizing the Sefardi Jewish concepts of enlightenment and redemption ⁸⁰ . This complex visual and literary synergic blending, which emphasizes religious observance, underlies the entire micrography cycle of the Catalan Micrography Maḥzor ⁸¹ . That it calls upon man to awaken, repent, and ascend to God’s light befits its placement within the Day of Atonement segment next to Ibn Ezra’s piyyuṭ. The message of redemption might well reflect the RaMBaN’s calculations indicating that the Messianic Era would begin in 1358, only a decade later than the time that the Catalan Micrography Maḥzor was executed by a scribe who seems to have been affiliated with the RaMBaN-RaSHBA School of Kabbalah ⁸² .

This aggregate figured micrography design conflates both Christian and Islamic models visually and literarily. It reveals a complex plaiting of surrounding cultural concepts and their translation that reflects contemporaneous rendering of rhetorical treatises into visual sermons, which often also appeared on church facades and in widely circulated Islamic designs, making them readily accessible ⁸³ . It suggests that the conceptually amorphous boundaries between verbal and visual signs fostered a literary exegesis ⁸⁴ . As noted by Modesta di Paola, this requires “constant negotiation processes [that]…. In this sense, [reveals] translation [to be] the paradigm of mediation, not only from one language to another but also from one culture to another” ⁸⁵ .

A complex multilevel reading of the micrography decorations in the Catalan Micrography Maḥzor illuminates the scribe-artist-micrographer’s broad cultural hybridity and his knowledge of the surrounding society’s art, literature, and ethical and theological writings. It also reveals that the presence of “the implied reader,” who serves as an addressee to whom a work is directed and therefore has similar “linguistic codes, ideological norms, and aesthetic ideas that must also be taken into account if that work is to be understood is applicable here as well. The implied reader, the bearer of the codes and norms presumed in the readership, had to understand this depiction for it not to have been lost” ⁸⁶ . The plethora of texts and moduli that might have been utilized for the image under discussion attests not only to the erudition of the Maḥzor’s scribe, but also to the sophistication of his audience, who had to comprehend it. All of these considerations reveal a great deal about the goals and thought processes of Jewish artists and their patrons during the late Middle Ages, at least in Barcelona, but perhaps elsewhere in Iberia as well. They disclose not only the depth of their understanding of the surrounding culture’s art and their knowledge of secular texts, popular treatises, and theological mystical works but also reveal their degree of consciously plaiting concepts from the surrounding cultures.

This complex plaiting also points to an audience that was familiar with the content of Christian and Islamic images, their iconography, and related literature and one that apprehended the scribe’s modifications and the encoded messages that strengthened the Jewish stance. Moreover, the complex visual and textual content of the Maḥzor, which must not have escaped the understanding of its contemporary readers, found further expression in additions to the manuscript by two of the six later hands evident in the Maḥzor ⁸⁷ . The complexity of these micrography decorations reveals the art to be illuminations that blur the boundaries between the textual aspect—the reading of the text—and its visual aspect—its figurata—its ‘looked at’ qualities.

This crossing back and forth between the textual and the visual aspects indicates that the iconic and semantic dimensions of this scribal art reflect a striving for simultaneous reflections that offer a synergic message greater than the sum of its parts ⁸⁸ . An early nineteenth-century hand—the fifth in the Maḥzor—jotted in Ladino on the margins of fol. 133v: “Notice some of the wonders you have not yet beheld [until now] in these psalms that are found here” ⁸⁹ . This writing indicates that the reciprocal associations among the design, the micrography-forming text, and the text of the piyyuṭ were understood and not lost even by later readers. Indeed, they were regarded as a treasure of marvels, which suggests that we, too, would do well to rediscover these embedded ties and their meaning.