##artist_start##
##artist_end## ##life_date_start##
##life_date_end## ##artist2_start##
##artist2_end## ##life_date2_start##
##life_date2_end## ##title_start##
##title##
##title_end## ##origin_date_start####origin_date##
##origin_date_end## ##technology_start####technology##
##technology_end## ##size_start####size##
##size_end## ##other_start####other##
##other_end##
##artist_end## ##life_date_start##
##life_date_end## ##artist2_start##
##artist2_end## ##life_date2_start##
##life_date2_end## ##title_start##
##title##
##title_end## ##origin_date_start####origin_date##
##origin_date_end## ##technology_start####technology##
##technology_end## ##size_start####size##
##size_end## ##other_start####other##
##other_end##
The princess martyred at the beginning of the 4th century is among the most frequently represented female saints in medieval art. The panel purchased from the church of the village Bát (now Batovce in Slovakia) in Hont County depicts two rarely shown scenes from the life of St. Catherine. A Hungarian poem written about a hundred years later and recorded in the Codex of Érsekújvár (1530-31) helps with the interpretation of the scenes. The girl looking at herself in the mirror and searching for her betrothed heeds her father’s last advice: “...never marry other / than one as beautiful, / As rich and as wise /... as you yourself are beautiful, rich, and wise”. Catherine is then converted to Christian faith by a hermit who holds up to her an icon: “lo, my child, a panel / that I give you not in vain / This is the image of the king’ son whom you wish to see / And this is his mother’s image.” Catherine departs from her own image – that is, her own soul – in the first scene, and reaches profound faith with the help of the miraculous image in the second. The story must have continued on the winged altarpiece of which this panel once formed part of. After the dismantling of the altarpiece, this fragment – the only one to survive – served for a while as an antependium.
##author##




