Emilian Jacobin
With his hand outstretched, his coat finely tailored, and a tricorn held respectfully under his right arm, he's a man brimming with appreciation. The Virgin Mary and Christ, flanked by angels, look immediately upon him. The Latin phrase Pro G.R. — Pro Gratia Recepta, "For Grace Received", appears above his open palm.
But what happened to prompt this lavish expression of thanks? Did he recover miraculously from illness? Negotiate a devastating storm at sea? Or survive the terrifying prospect of a duel? We can only speculate, but within that lies the fascination. Produced in France around 1712, this piece is a rare survivor; it's an 'ex-voto', a painting of gratitude itself.
A Promise Kept
Throughout the centuries, promises to God or the Saints have been made by those seeking divine intervention in the face of adversity. The Latin phrase 'ex voto suscepto' translates as 'from the vow made'. Help me through this trial, and I shall give thanks publicly. Following the miracle, the vow was kept, sometimes by offering a small token at a shrine or by commissioning a painting.
Emilian Jacobin's ex-voto exemplifies this age-old tradition, and it still resonates for its sense of emotional clarity. While portraits often define an identity, ex-votos confess vulnerability. And in that, they convey more about the sitter than a standard portrait ever could.
Ex-Votos In The Americas
Ex-Voto Retablos, Chalma, Malinalco, Mexico
In continental Europe, the trend was for formal ex-votos that carried a statement - they often hinted at the donor's lineage via a coat of arms or their attire. Whereas, in Mexico, later examples convey their story in humbler tones via provincial brushwork and vivid images. Usually painted on tin ('retablos'), these evocative little remembrances depict specific incidents from daily life.
We see a woman struck by lightning in her kitchen, a man thrown from his horse, and a child cured of fever. In the example below, an inscription reads "I give thanks to the Virgin of Guadalupe for saving my husband from being crushed by the ox cart. Puebla, 1892.”
Our Lady of San Juan de los Lagos, Ex-Voto on Tin (1911)
When we look beyond the immediate shock factor, they reveal a sense of what life was like for those involved. There's a social history element amid these vignettes of trauma.
Our Lady of San Juan de los Lagos, Mexican Ex-Voto (1935)
Giving Thanks Today
I'm certain that in our predominantly secular society, you wouldn't dream of commissioning an ex-voto today. Yet still, each of us possesses an innate desire to express gratitude. Perhaps it's via a Facebook comment ❤️, a small donation to a local charity, or simply during a quiet moment of introspection.
And for me, this is why ex-votos remain as compelling as they've always been. They're a reminder of both the need to say "thank you" and the unpredictability of circumstance.