“Mysticism and visuality”: the topic presents, as Gilbert and Sullivan might have put it, “a most ingenious paradox.” By definition, the ineffable lies beyond representation of any sort, be it visual or verbal. In its root sense, the word mysticism derives from the Greek “muo,” “to remain silent” or “to close the lips or eyes.” What place can there be for any discourse on the visible in the context of a system of thought that, by definition, is predicated on obscurity and blindness? The paradox extends from sight to speech: were mystics to fall silent, there would not be any mystical literature. Yet when they speak, they very often are called to describe what they see. The description of mystical vision might be considered a special subgenre of ekphrasis, a rhetorical mode predicated on the assumption that, in defiance of the aphorism to the contrary, a thousand words are worth a single picture. Given, however, that the visible, let alone the invisible, is often said to defy verbal description, it must be asked what – and how – mystics “see,” and why vision, however defined, is so indispensable to their way of framing the world and their experience of it.

My observations assume that not only the form but also the content of mystical experience, whatever claims its practitioners might make to the contrary, are conditioned by historical context. For an art historian, the most obvious way of insisting on the impact of context, however construed, is to point out the numerous instances in which works of art shaped and structured the experience of onlookers. To define the problem in such straightforward terms, however, is too simplistic; images are shaped in complex ways by the experience, expectations, class, and gender of their audiences. For the material discussed here, the audience is, above all, monastic, although by the later Middle Ages it expands to comprehend the laity. Given that writings in (and on) the monastic tradition have often interpreted manifestations of the visible as concessions to lay piety, linking visualization with vernacularization, it is important to stress that this essay’s emphasis lies elsewhere: on the value attached to the visible within monastic exegesis, theology, and practice.