Dance is not mentioned in the parable of the Wise and Foolish Virgins, yet 16th- and 17th-century Dutch and Flemish artists include dance scenes in their representation of the biblical story. This post aims to discover how and why these artists depicted dancers. (1)

Images of the wise and foolish virgins enhance illustrated manuscripts. These early images focus on the virgins waiting: the wise virgins are frequently illustrated holding a lit oil lamp, whereas the foolish virgins, whose lamps are extinguished, turn them upside down. In the image below, all the virgins, whether wise or foolish, appear alike. Only the positioning of the lamps and the burning flames reveal who is wise and who is foolish.

Gradually, the focus changed from virgins at rest to virgins at work or play. The wise virgins occupied themselves with virtuous tasks, whereas the foolish virgins sought enjoyment in morally questionable activities. Pieter Bruegel the Elder (c. 1525/30–1569) was one of the first, if not the first, to contrast the activities of the two groups. The print below, designed by Bruegel the Elder and engraved by Philip Galle (1527–1612), presents the wise virgins performing activities associated with respectable women. They weave, spin, wash, and sew in the light emitted from their well-filled oil lamps. While the wise virgins perform activities that are beneficial to the community, the foolish virgins squander their time with music and dancing. They dance in the shadow; their lightless lamps lie idle on the floor in front of them.

The foolish virgins dance in pairs. One couple moves under the raised arch formed by the other couple; the leading virgin virtually draws the rear woman beneath the arches. Their improvised movements—one woman practically plunges forward, another is propelled backwards—are ungainly. This disorderly dance, reminiscent of Bruegel’s uncouth peasant dances, is accompanied by the bagpipes. In Flemish art, the bagpipes, implying male genitalia, were associated with depravity.

In Bruegel’s day, dance was condemned by the church. Dancing and music were considered the equivalent to lewdness and moral decay. Bruegel underscores the prevailing social norm by juxtaposing the working virgins with the dancing virgins. His engraving has a remarkable structure; the artist divides the composition into four sections, organised around a centrally located angel. The lower left represents the wise virgins working diligently. The foolish ones are assigned to the lower right. The upper level illustrates the events that occur after the arrival of the bridegroom. The pious and divine are represented on the left, the indecorous on the right. The 16th-century burgher would undoubtedly associate Bruegel’s composition with the Last Judgement, where the figures of the righteous and the damned occupy the same areas as the wise and foolish virgins.

Crispijn van de Passe the Elder (1564–1637) engraved a cycle of eight plates illustrating the parable of the Wise and Foolish Virgins. Plate four, illustrating the foolish virgins, draws inspiration from paintings by Maerten de Vos (1531/21–1637). Van de Passe situates the foolish virgins in a splendid chamber. Two servants hold lighted torches substituting for the virgins’ extinguished lamps. These foolish virgins, in contrast to Bruegel’s rustic representation, are elegant and dressed in fine, fashionable robes. The opulent women indulge in frivolous activities and succumb to worldly desires. One virgin is entangled in an amorous encounter; another virgin plucks the lute, while a third plays the clavichord. These musical instruments are deemed respectable, being associated with an elite lifestyle. The two remaining virgins are shown performing different styles of dancing. The woman on the right, shaking her tambourine, performs a lively folk dance. In contrast, the imposing lady on the left dances genteelly.

A casual glance at the Van de Passe print might not immediately uncover elusive moral implications. The artist presents a well-poised dancing lady and her equally refined partner that instantly command your attention. The lady’s demeanour and her graceful alignment would grace any aristocratic ballroom. Her partner, meticulously dressed, is an accomplished dancer. The rotation of his shoulders and his intricate footwork reveal fastidious dance training. Gradually, however, this ambivalent engraving reveals the artist’s intention. The inscription beneath the plate, “libidinem carnis sequens”, which translates to “following the lust of the flesh”, positively confirms the artist’s message.

In a version of the parable by the Flemish artist Hieronymus Francken II (1578–1623), the foolish virgins are drawn to the foreground, occupying the greater part of the painting; the wise virgins are delegated to an antechamber in the background. The foolish virgins are surrounded by riches. There is a stylish lady playing a beautifully embellished keyboard instrument, and just behind the dancer there are two virgins; one is bare-breasted, who, having had too much wine, has fallen asleep.

The Flemish artist Pieter Lisaert IV (c. 1595–c. 1629/30) painted a comparable artwork. Like Francken, he represents the wise virgins as humble and pious. And, in keeping with the parable, the lamps are still aflame. The wise virgins have gathered in a chapel-like chamber lined with sacred objects; a solemn painting (Man of Sorrows?) decorates the fireplace, and on the ledge, we see a crucifix, a skull, an hourglass, and other artifacts typical of vanitas art. All these items reinforce the symbolism of a virtuous and discerning lifestyle.

Lisaert and Francken both depict the foolish virgins in a similar disreputable light. Dancing, music, drinking, and sensuality are highlighted. The playing cards and open oysters scattered over the floor confirm their flirtatious nature. And, if that is not enough, the symbolism of the paintings above the fireplace, particularly the sensuality and carnivalesque sphere in Francken’s painting within a painting, leaves no doubt about their hedonistic manners.

In a work by Pieter Lisaert III (1574–after 1604?), the wise and the foolish virgins each occupy half of the canvas. The wise virgins are orderly; they pray, sew, read, weave, and attend to their lamps. The luxurious, foolish virgins fill their time, as in the previous paintings, with idle activities. The area in front of them is strewn with cards, dice, masks, and open oysters. All these attributes symbolise depravity. With little imagination, you could mistake the “foolish virgins section” for a house of ill repute; the alluring gaze of the seated woman is, to put it mildly, enticing.

The dancing virgin is a captivating sight. Her orange draperies and voluptuous veil sway delicately around her. Lisaert offers little information about her manner of dancing except that she dances calmly, moving barefoot. The flow of her draperies suggests that she gently rotates her hips and shoulders. Her poise, though elegant, is not upright like that of a court dancer. Rather, she pushes her pelvis forward, hanging effortlessly in her hips. This seductive woman, adorned with exquisite jewellery, reveals her breasts and nipples. Were it not for the wine-drinking woman with an exceptionally low neckline, it would be tempting to compare the dancer to well-known portrayals of Roman goddesses created by Italian Renaissance artists.

I found a fascinating work where the leading virgin has a perfectly respectable neckline but, notably, prominent nipples. It is not my habit to emphasise nipples, but in this case, that is unavoidable. But let’s not get distracted. This engraving of a lovely lady and her partner is one of a series of prints illustrating the Parable of the Wise and Foolish Virgins created by Jan Saenredam (c. 1565–1607).

Saenredam presents the foolish virgins in what, at first glance, appears to be a pleasurable outdoor scene. There are dancers, musicians, and amorous couples dispersed throughout the countryside. The foremost virgin is a beauty; she has lowered her gaze and hovers in a semi-seated stance. Her tight bodice, flowing drapery, and billowing skirts highlight her alluring femininity. This virgin, as you may notice, dances atop a book. All the while, her gallant partner, attired in fine apparel, raises his drinking glass mischievously high. Amorous virgins and their willing partners indulge themselves in the vicinity of the central couple. The background reveals yet another group of fun-loving individuals, swirling around in a chain dance. And, in keeping with the parable, the artist has placed an oil lamp and a vessel overflowing with oil beside the virgin’s feet.

Do you not consider it bizarre that Saenredam places the dancing virgin upon an open book? Even more peculiar, she is treading on the Biblia Sacra, which is open to the scripture Matthew 25, the parable of the wise and foolish virgins. You have gathered that Saenredam’s hedonistic scene is more than it seems. Saenredam aligns dance and music with lechery and ribaldry. Should there be any uncertainty regarding Saenredam’s moral message, the inscription beneath the engraving will clarify any doubts. The text describes the dancing, the singing of verses, and the countryside pleasures, concluding with the unambiguous statement, ‘Thus flourishes frivolous contempt for Law and for God.’ _⁽²⁾

The Parable of the Wise and Foolish Virgins teaches that preparation is a prerequisite for entering God’s Kingdom. In the 16th and 17th centuries, Dutch and Flemish artists embraced the parable and developed an extended narrative that included social and religious morality. Consequently, dance, which was considered by many to be a licentious pastime, emerged as a focal point; the foolish virgins overlooked that dancing could lead them astray.

_{(1) A brief summary of the scripture, Matthew 25. – The biblical text narrates the story of ten virgins who each carry an oil lamp: five of them, the wise virgins, additionally have an extra container of oil. The virgins are waiting for the arrival of the bridegroom. In anticipation, the virgins rest or busy themselves with the lamps. When the bridegroom finally arrives, the lamps of the wise virgins, having prepared for his coming by bringing sufficient oil, are still glowing. The lamps of the foolish virgins, who were unprepared, have long been extinguished. As the wise virgins are welcomed to the wedding, the foolish virgins rush off to find an oil merchant. Upon their return, the bridegroom refuses to recognise them and they are denied entry.}

_{2) The entire translation of the Latin inscription has been made available in Working or Dancing: The iconography of the Wise and Foolish Virgins (Low Countries, Sixteenth and Seventeenth Centuries by Marina Nordera . See footnote 12, page 203}

_{3) For an extensive study see the excellent article Working or Dancing: The iconography of the Wise and Foolish Virgins (Low Countries, Sixteenth and Seventeenth Centuries by Marina Nordera- Clio. Women, Gender, History 2017/2 (N0 46), p. 199-213. ISSN 1252-7017}