<?xml version='1.0' encoding='utf8'?>
<!DOCTYPE article PUBLIC "-//NLM//DTD JATS (Z39.96) Journal Archiving and Interchange DTD v1.1 20151215//EN" "https://jats.nlm.nih.gov/archiving/1.1/JATS-archivearticle1.dtd">
<article dtd-version="1.1" article-type="book-review">
  <front>
    <journal-meta>
      <journal-id>TMR</journal-id>
      <journal-title-group>
        <journal-title>The Medieval Review</journal-title>
      </journal-title-group>
      <issn pub-type="epub">1096-746X</issn>
      <publisher>
        <publisher-name>Indiana University</publisher-name>
      </publisher>
    </journal-meta>
    <article-meta>
      <article-id pub-id-type="publisher-id">20.09.16</article-id>
      <title-group>
        <article-title>20.09.16, Sigler, Medieval Art and the Look of Silent Film</article-title>
      </title-group>
      <contrib-group>
        <contrib contrib-type="author">
          <name>
            <surname>Felice  Lifshitz</surname>
            <given-names/>
          </name>
          <aff>University of Alberta</aff>
          <address>
            <email>Felice.lifshitz@ualberta.ca</email>
          </address>
        </contrib>
      </contrib-group>
      <pub-date publication-format="epub" date-type="pub" iso-8601-date="2020">
        <year>2020</year>
      </pub-date>
      <product product-type="book">
        <person-group>
          <name>
            <surname>Sigler, Lora Ann</surname>
            <given-names/>
          </name>
        </person-group>
        <source>Medieval Art and the Look of Silent Film: The Influence on Costume and Set Design, </source>
        <year iso-8601-date="2019">2019</year>
        <publisher-loc>Jefferson, NC</publisher-loc>
        <publisher-name>McFarland &amp; Co Publishers</publisher-name>
        <page-range>pp. vii, 227</page-range>
        <price>$55.00 </price>
        <isbn>978-1-4766-7352-3 </isbn>
      </product>
      <permissions>
        <copyright-statement>Copyright 2020 Trustees of Indiana University. Indiana University provides the information contained in this file for non-commercial, personal, or research use only. All other use, including but not limited to commercial or scholarly reproductions, redistribution, publication or transmission, whether by electronic means or otherwise, without prior written permission of the copyright holder is strictly prohibited.</copyright-statement>
      </permissions>
    </article-meta>
  </front>
  <body>
    <p>Lora Ann Sigler is clearly a super fan of silent film, alongside other cultural
                    artifacts of the early twentieth century such as women's fashion and
                    architecture. Her tremendous enthusiasm for these topics has resulted in a
                    highly opinionated book that will likely be enjoyable for similarly inclined
                    super fans, but that does little to advance scholarship on medievalism
                    (cinematic or otherwise). </p>
    <p/>
    <p>A portion of Sigler's book is devoted to the argument that the design for the
                    sets and costumes of silent films, both European and North American, was
                    "demonstrably and profoundly influenced by medieval art" (p. 1), that designers
                    "drew lavishly and often directly from the art of the medieval period for their
                    inspiration" (p. 2), and that "early cinema costume and set designers chose to
                    borrow lock, stock, and barrel from the medieval past to clothe their
                    'unsatisfactory present'" (p. 173). Sigler's argument is not limited to the
                    arena of silent film, for she asserts that "both costume designers for the
                    movies and couture designers for streetwear were virtually obsessed with the
                    Middle Ages for inspiration" (p. 90). The author is certainly able to point to
                    scattered individual examples of costumes or sets that could justifiably be said
                    to have been influenced by a taste for medievalism, but these are too few and
                    far between to make the case that the overall "look of silent film" owed a debt
                    to medieval European art. Even her strongest individual examples ultimately
                    undermine her (untenable) larger argument; unquestionably one character in Ernst
                    Lubitsch's 1922 <italic>The Loves of Pharaoh</italic> "is the very image
                    of a German maiden from the ninth to twelfth centuries" (p. 74), but all the
                    other characters in the relevant still (Figure 31) look resolutely and
                    accurately ancient Egyptian, and even the costumes in Fritz Lang's 1924 <italic>Die Nibelungen</italic>, which adapts a medieval German text set
                    (including on film) at the late ancient/early medieval courts of the Burgundians
                    at Worms and of Attila the Hun "borrow from every possible source, classical,
                    medieval, even a hint of Asian" (p. 81). </p>
    <p/>
    <p>More importantly, however, most of Sigler's individual examples are not strong
                    (although there is neither space nor reason to address more than a select few of
                    them). I am unconvinced that the street scenes in <italic>The Cabinet
                        of Dr. Caligari</italic> (1919), <italic>The Student of Prague</italic>
                    (1913) and <italic>Nosferatu</italic> (1922) were intended to invoke a
                    medieval town or village (pp. 15-21 and 25-30). Speaking from my own experience
                    visiting, living in, and studying Europe over the past forty-five years, I
                    suggest that the scenes in question were more likely to evoke <italic>the present state</italic> of the locales in question for their contemporary
                    audiences (in Vilnius, in Rothenburg ob der Tauber, in Český Krumlov, and
                    elsewhere) than the medieval "past." The <italic>Nosferatu</italic>
                    example is particularly infuriating: Sigler claims that a still from the film
                    (Figure 9) shows a "Medieval-style village" (p. 27) when it clearly shows a
                    typical twentieth-century central European town; I was therefore not surprised
                    to learn (on pp. 29-30) that the exterior shots for the film were taken on
                    location in the actual town of Wismar (as well as in the Salzspeicher in Lübeck,
                    built between the sixteenth and the eighteenth centuries), thereby in fact
                    anchoring the film squarely in the reality of 1922, and decidedly not
                    "establishing the medieval setting of the entire proceedings" (p. 30). Even
                    allowing for the fact (buried in an endnote on p. 201) that Sigler is "using the
                    term 'medieval' rather loosely" to extend into the sixteenth century, many of
                    the artifacts that inspired the designs discussed in this book date (like the
                    Salzspeicher in Lübeck) from even more recent times, such as the seventeenth-,
                    eighteenth-, and nineteenth-century structures quoted in the Spanish Revival,
                    Colonial Revival, Mediterranean Revival, and Mission Revival architecture that
                    is the focus of Chapters Six and Seven. I am equally unconvinced that the Art
                    Deco Erté wedding gown in Figure 42 shows "much the same outfit" (p. 88) as is
                    worn by Aelfgyva in the so-called Bayeux Tapestry (shown in Figure 43),
                    purportedly in both cases including high necks that resolve into wimples, or
                    that the film costumes in Figures 38 and 39 are based on illustrations in Braun
                    and Schneider's guide to historical dress (1861-1890) reproduced in Figure 40,
                    since the characteristics of "medieval" dress are listed as "sleeves nearly to
                    the floor, belt well below the waist, and...edging on the sleeves" (p. 85)
                    whereas the relevant silent film dresses pictured both lack nearly-floor-length
                    sleeves (indeed, one is entirely sleeveless), belts, and edging. It is
                    indisputable that something is going on with sleeves in the fashions of the era
                    but it is questionable whether the inspiration for garments with elaborate
                    sleeves was necessarily the European Middle Ages, given that Chinese and
                    Japanese traditional designs (just to take two examples) also sport capacious
                    sleeves. But the most glaring weakness in terms of evidentiary rigor is this:
                    Sigler provides no examples of creators of the items in question naming the
                    European Middle Ages as a source for their work, or of any contemporary
                    commentators indicating that they perceived the items as medieval(ist). </p>
    <p/>
    <p>The book is also beset by a number of structural weaknesses. Information is
                    presented in what seemed to this reader to be random order. I could not discern
                    any principles governing decisions over what deserved inclusion beyond being of
                    interest to the author, independent of relevance to the book's thesis. For
                    instance, Sigler includes a section on Achmed Abdullah that admittedly has
                    nothing to do with her topic because he "was the star of a life story so out of
                    an adventure novel, it deserves to be included" (p. 42), and one on Marion E.
                    Wong's <italic>The Curse of Quon Gwon</italic> (1916) that is peripheral
                    to her theme because "she deserves to be commended for her contributions to film
                    in general, design in general and women's participation in particular" (p. 163);
                    the section on Wong was not suddenly rendered miraculously relevant by the
                    baffling subsequent assertion that her film "gave us glimpses of the unaltered
                    medieval traditions of the Chinese in America" (p. 172). And why are we told
                    that Carl Theodor Dreyer's "films often dealt with religious themes, possibly
                    owing to the feeling of being unloved" (p. 38)? Finally, at least in terms of
                    organization and thesis, Sigler's arguments concerning the influence of medieval
                    art on the costumes and set designs of silent film continue only through p. 102;
                    the remainder of the book consists of a series of chapters and appendices on a
                    variety of more or less tangentially related topics: female fashion in general,
                    including a discussion of belts for sanitary pads that Sigler claims look "quite
                    a bit like medieval chastity belts" (p. 120), a disturbing assertion in a study
                    of medievalism given that "medieval chastity belts" are one of the most
                    problematic myths known to specialists in the field [1]; the design of movie
                    theatres (some of which did indisputably include medievalist elements, but which
                    on the whole seem better described as eclectic); Spanish Revival, Colonial
                    Revival, Mission Revival, and Mediterranean Revival domestic, public, and
                    ecclesiastical architecture; women in early film production; mechanization;
                    Audrey Munson; Erté and Georges Barbier; James Laver, and Siegfried Kracauer and
                    Lotte Eisner's ideas about some of the same films treated by Sigler. </p>
    <p/>
    <p>I have other areas of concern as well. The many errors and sloppy scholarship in
                    the book also make it an unreliable guide to the cultural dynamics and visual
                    cultures of early twentieth-century transatlantic cinema. Sometimes it is a
                    question of simple errors such as "Gustave Dorè" for Gustave Doré (p. 9), the
                    "Soviet Socialist Republic" for the USSR or Union of Soviet Socialist Republics
                    (p. 25), "Heiligan-Geist-Kirche" for Heiligen-Geist-Kirche (p. 30), "Marmosaal"
                    for the Marmorsaal at the Berlin Zoo (p. 30), <italic>schlöss</italic> for
                        <italic>Schloss</italic> to designate a castle (p. 45), <italic>Siegfried: Kreimhild's Revenge</italic> for <italic>Die
                        Nibelungen: Kreimhild's Revenge</italic> as the title of an important 1924 film
                    (p. 67), the placement of St. Gallen in Germany when it is in fact in
                    Switzerland (p. 84), and so forth. Some comments fail to take account of
                    transnational histories of the silent film era, such as when Sigler describes
                    Andrei Andrejew as having "worked under more variations of his difficult name
                    than there is room to list" (p. 52), as if immigrants to the United States from
                    countries that did not use the Roman alphabet personally and voluntarily
                    butchered and multiplied the spellings of their "difficult" (!) names, or when
                    she expresses astonishment that a person of Scandinavian heritage (Aenne
                    Willkomm) should have been born in Shanghai in 1902 (p. 80), indicating that she
                    had never heard of the Shanghai International Settlement. Sometimes it is a
                    question of substandard citational practices, such as telling readers that
                    "archived copies of [Albin] Grau's own notes [are] available to students of
                    film" (p. 31) with no indication of where that might be, or where she herself
                    obtained this information; or telling readers what "one historian has suggested"
                    concerning the Bayeux Tapestry (including that she does "not see what he sees")
                    with no indication of the name of the offending historian or the work in which
                    he made his unfortunate assertions (p. 89); or providing incomplete references
                    and/or omitting references from the Bibliography (e.g. the Neil Gabler article
                    referenced in the endnotes on p. 213). Sometimes it is a question of outright
                    incorrect information, such as a citation to the Wikipedia article on the
                    "Eight-hour Day" to support the (to Sigler, surprising) "fact" that "Russia was
                    the first to institute the eight-hour day in 1917, immediately following the
                    October Revolution" (p. 117), when the article itself clearly states that
                    Uruguay was the first nation to adopt the eight-hour day (in 1915). </p>
    <p/>
    <p>My final area of concern relates to how much of the book is devoted to
                    idiosyncratic personal commentary that some readers might perhaps consider
                    charming but that I found to be both irritating and distracting from my ability
                    to focus on the argument. Sigler treats her own preferences and predilections as
                    universal, particularly in connection with heteronormativity (e.g. pp. 68 and
                    107) and stereotypical gender roles. For instance, in reference to a 1908 film
                    that included shots of "scantily-clad, young, pretty girls," Sigler assures her
                    readers: "My thoughts were pure, but I can't speak for the male audience of the
                    time" (p. 59). I have bad news for Sigler: she can't speak for the female
                    audience of the time either, although she mistakenly believes that she can, such
                    as when she asserts that "surely" all members of "the distaff half of the
                    audience" would join her in coveting a pair of "high-heeled, zebra-patterned
                    pumps" worn by Gloria Swanson (p. 69). Readers are imagined as unquestioningly
                    sharing her views; for instance, after noting that F. W. Murnau "spoke in
                    nostalgic terms of his visits to Paris as a teenager," she comments that this
                    was "Only natural, for what better time to go to Paris than one's teen years?"
                    (p. 31). Hardly a page goes by without some sort of snide or judgmental comment,
                    such as that <italic>The Road to Yesterday</italic> was so poorly edited
                    that it "was evidently given to several preschoolers to concoct" (p. 162), or
                    that the feminist movement has evolved to the point "where sex object seems to
                    be the highest goal, and stripper the ultimate career objective" (p. 111). </p>
    <p/>
    <p>I can imagine that some readers might be entertained by Lora Ann Sigler's wealth
                    of trivia and breezy anecdotes, like the one about how Pia Zadora tore down a
                    house in the Hollywood hills built for Mary Pickford and Douglas Fairbanks
                    because she thought it was haunted by the ghost of a laughing woman, leading
                    Sigler to the punch line: "[i]t has been slyly hinted that the laughter resulted
                    from seeing one of Zadora's performances" (p. 139). But any reader who would be
                    irritated by such commentary, or who is in search of a serious scholarly
                    monograph on medievalism in silent film, would probably not find this book
                    valuable.</p>
    <p/>
    <p>--------</p>
    <p>Notes</p>
    <p/>
    <p>1. Albrecht Classen, <italic>The Medieval Chastity Belt: A Myth-Making
                        Process</italic> (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2007). Sigler also evokes the
                    myth of "the bra-burning feminists of the 1960s and 70s" (p. 111).</p>
    <p/>
    <p/>
  </body>
</article>
