The Moulins altarpiece at the Louvre: a restored masterpiece

Moulins, summer 1837. Despite the season, it is dark in the cathedral. A well-dressed young bourgeois meticulously goes around. We can assume that he is accompanied by the priest who introduces him to the place, an elected official from the city and a local scholar… Because Prosper Mérimée is an envoy from Paris!

He introduced himself as “general inspector of historical monuments” charged by Adolphe Thiers, Minister of the Interior, with drawing up an inventory of French heritage. Since 1834, the worldly writer has spent several months a year surveying the provinces in a horse-drawn carriage, noting the destruction and poor restorations, but also spotting the masterpieces that urgently need to be included on a protection list…

Mérimée’s view of Moulins Cathedral

Moulins (Allier) is just a stop at the end of his exhausting tour, which began in May. Prosper Mérimée was not impressed by the city which was nevertheless the brilliant capital of the Dukes of Bourbon in the 15th century. In the cathedral, he especially noticed the beautiful Renaissance stained glass windows. Suddenly, two portraits, hanging against the pillars of the choir, draw cries of admiration from him. It is explained to him that they represent, kneeling, Anne of France, daughter of Louis XI, and her husband Pierre II of Bourbon. The famous dukes occupied a huge palace, just in front of the cathedral (their collegiate church at the time). He saw its ruin. For his report, the inspector notes that on the back of these portraits appear “beautiful greyness” (1).

Further on, in the baptismal chapel, he is shown a large Virgin in glory. Despite the poor light, Mérimée can distinguish her sweet face, the diaphanous angels… which remind him of the Italian masters of the Renaissance: “All these paintings are, it is said, by Ghirlandaio (2) who worked for a time for the Dukes of Bourbonnais”, he writes, half convinced. What is certain, however, is that the two portraits once formed “shutters” which folded over this large composition. He recommends to his interlocutors to bring together the three parts and notes: “It would be desirable if we took more care of them, and especially if we placed them in a place where they could be more easily studied by artists.” It would be done six years later.

Paris, April 12, 1904

Paris, April 12, 1904. There’s a stampede at the Pavilion de Marsan, at the end of the wing of the Louvre which runs along Rue de Rivoli. The entire Parisian arts community is flocking there for the inauguration of a major exhibition dedicated to “French Primitives”. This strange term designates, explains Henri Bouchot, the curator at the time in the prints department of the National Library, the artists of the 15th and 16th centuries who were able to free themselves from the influences of Italy and northern Europe, to allow a truly French genius to express itself! The era is quite chauvinistic… but also curious about this pivotal moment between the Middle Ages and the Renaissance, when artists did not yet sign their works. For Henri Bouchot, the exhibition also aims to allow connections and attributions.

Like the 80,000 visitors who will admire it over these few months, his colleague from the Louvre, Georges Lafenestre, is dazzled by the Triptych representing the Dukes of Bourbon in prayer, with, at its center, this majestic Virgin of the Apocalypse whose feet rest on a crescent Moon, whose head is shrouded in a golden halo… The masterpiece, despite its fragility, has traveled since Mills. It is presented surrounded by other paintings believed to be by the same hand. Lafenestre wonders about “this delicious artist, whom we are provisionally reduced to calling the Master of Moulins”. Is it Jean Perréal, a court painter of Charles VIII? Possible, but without any proof. In the exhibition catalog, the specialist begs: “Please, gentlemen archivists, our friends, a little document, a little document please, which allows us to salute this glorious man by his real name!”

April 2003

Georges Lafenestre will always ignore it, but the Master of Moulins now has a name. His name is Jean Hey, and contrary to what the curator and his friends thought, he is not French, but… Flemish! This is the publication of a scientific article in the issue of Monumental Bulletin – a quarterly scholarly journal – which definitively tips the scales for this name, after decades of varied hypotheses and specialist quarrels.

Delving through the Lyon archives, two medievalists, Pierre-Gilles Girault and Étienne Hamon, have unearthed crucial legal documents which attest, in 1488, to the presence in Lyon of “a master Jean, painter of the late monsignor the cardinal”, that is to say of Charles de Bourbon who has just died. These documents complete the puzzle that was formed in Brussels where another painting is today kept, a Ecce Homo. On the reverse of this scourged Christ – in the same hand as the Triptych -, an inscription attributes the work to Jean Hey, a painter described as “famous” and “teutonicus», that is to say coming from the Netherlands. The text also cites its sponsor, a “king’s notary” in 1494 – this is Charles VIII, the younger brother of Anne of France.

Different archives confirm the dates and places: Jean Hey worked in France from the 1480s. He therefore resided in Lyon in the service of Cardinal Charles de Bourbon – whose portrait he painted. Then, after the death of his patron in 1488, he went to Moulins, to the court of his brother… Peter II of Bourbon! He represented Anne of France, Peter II and their daughter Suzanne as a child, at least twice. The Triptych is undoubtedly his last painting, produced around 1498, based on Suzanne’s age. It is a work of maturity, believe art historians who remain intrigued by this masterpiece.

Moulins, November 9, 2022

Moulins, November 9, 2022. An unusual procession crosses the nave of Moulins Cathedral lined with Rubalise: three boxes on wheels come out of the bishops’ sacristy and pass in front of the fifty parishioners who have come to say goodbye to their Triptych. The rector, Father Claude Herbach, reassured them: no, the Louvre Museum is not going to steal this masterpiece, which is also an object of devotion before which a time of prayer is organized every Saturday morning. The priest must have been persuasive as the Moulinois’ attachment to the painting is so visceral.

The prefect also wanted the move to take place at night to avoid any incidents. “It would be worse,” Claude Herbach convinced him. It’s better that everything happens out in the open. » So, he explained tirelessly: the altarpiece is going to get a makeover. And in the meantime, the regional directorate of cultural affairs (Drac) of Auvergne-Rhône-Alpes will renovate the sacristy which is too humid, where it risked being damaged. I promise, Jean Hey’s painting will find a beautiful display “from the end of 2024”, it was believed at the time… On the square, the rector is amused to see bikers flanking the truck to escort the work. “It’s really our star rising in Paris,” he thinks.

Paris, February 21, 2023

Right in the middle of other masterpieces, the altarpiece sits majestically in the Pavilion de Flore, at the end of the wing of the Louvre, on the Seine side. In a corner, the Pierrot by Antoine Watteau, in the process of cleaning, melancholy observes the crowd crowding around the Triptych. Restorers, curators, chemists, art historians, etc. come together in these places dedicated to the Center for Research and Restoration of Museums of France (C2RMF). They scrutinize it, brought together in a veritable scientific “conclave”.

Dominique Martos-Levif, head of the painting restoration workshop, is in his element. “What luck,” she said to herself, “to be able to rub shoulders so intimately, for months, with such a masterpiece!” The specialist has already coordinated a battery of examinations to learn as much as possible about the sublime images covering these fragile oak panels. These were photographed using three methods: normal shooting, UV and infrared. Not to mention a full x-ray, including the gold frame of the central panel, which appears to be original.

Moreover, the scientific committee must decide whether it should also be restored or not… All these studies make it possible, without altering the work, to distinguish the different gestures of the painter who, for certain figures such as the angels, began by transferring models with charcoal or brush, while he directly painted the realistic portraits of his patrons. Scientists smile to discover that young Suzanne was first wearing a cap before the artist, undoubtedly on the orders of Peter II, girded her with a ducal crown.

Answers through restoration

At the same time, in the underground laboratories of the C2RMF, “X-ray fluorescence spectrometry” made it possible to trace the origin of the pigments: the vermilion of the Virgin’s mantle was thus identified. This is mercury sulphide. “There are two blues in the dress of Saint Anne, the patron saint of Anne of France,” explains Dominique Martos-Levif to the director of the Drac. The artist first used a copper blue. Then he went over it again with crushed lapis lazuli. One of the most expensive pigments to obtain.”

Analyzes confirm that on the surface, a thick varnish has yellowed over time, altering our perception of the rainbow of the Virgin’s halo, the complexion of the characters… “The moon is made of a sheet of silver, but it has a yellow appearance. Is this due to the aging of the varnish or the painter’s desire to prevent it from darkening?,” the specialist still wonders. She hopes the coming months of restoration will provide answers.

Paris, November 26, 2025

The altarpiece crossed the Louvre diagonally and found a public life at the beginning of the Richelieu wing. Before the eyes of visitors, the Triptych of the Glorious Virgin unfolds in its rediscovered splendor. Its colors were revived by the removal of old varnish. The transparent glazes used by the painter once again contribute to making the rich brocades silky. The side panels, cut at an uncertain time, have been returned to the same level: thus, the spouses’ gaze is once again symmetrical.

Dominique Martos-Levif once again admires the frame of the central panel: its gilding, enhanced with colored patterns, is original. An extremely rare discovery, under a more noisy layer, applied in the 19th century that the restorers removed. This frame, which was an integral part of the work, is in the Italian style with its fluted pilasters and its frieze of leaves. It was undoubtedly proposed by Pierre Napolitain, carpenter to the Duke of Bourbon, according to the archives. Jean Hey proves to be a Renaissance artist, absorbing influences from both northern and southern Europe to develop his own art.

Mills, back in 1498

We can imagine that for the great Marian feast which is being prepared, Peter II jostled Jean Hey. The altarpiece must be installed above the high altar of the collegiate church. In his workshop at the castle, the painter sighs: he has not quite completed his grisailles of the Annunciation, on the reverse. But we do not discuss the orders of a patron… Tired, the artist watches the servants take away the Triptych on which he worked almost alone, not letting his apprentices interfere. During the Eucharist, when the two shutters are opened, the audience, dazzled by this sudden celestial vision of Mary and the Child Jesus, will fall to their knees, he knows it. More than the gold granted to him by the Duke, this will be his reward.

(1) Grisaille is a tone-on-tone paint treated in shades of gray.

(2) Domenico Ghirlandaio, Florentine painter (1448-1494).