Alchemy and tarot: why a visual resemblance does not prove influence

The Sun appears on a tarot card. It also appears in writings and images associated with alchemy. Does that mean the card was designed from an alchemical treatise? Not necessarily. The same motif can circulate through many spheres: religious art, emblems, astrology, scientific books, coats of arms, and popular scenes. The resemblance deserves a research question, but by itself it does not prove a relationship. To speak of influence, we need dates, identified objects, and some documentable route of transmission.

The Morgan Library & Museum situates the first tarots in the playing culture of Renaissance Italy. The institution also documents that tarot received later occultist reinterpretations. That chronological distinction is the starting point. A contemporary alchemical reading can be creative and useful for the person who practices it. Presenting it as a mandatory explanation of a fifteenth-century painting requires evidence about that painting, not only a present-day association.

First, which alchemy are we talking about?

Alchemy was not a single secret dictionary of images. The Metropolitan Museum of Art explains its variety of practices and contexts: texts about matter, workshop work, glass production, pigments, medicines, and operations of transformation. Its images appear on objects from different periods, places, and purposes. Reducing all of it to “the Sun means X and the Moon means Y” erases a much richer material history.

For example, in early modern Europe, artisans linked to processes considered alchemical worked with heat, metals, and vitrified materials. An image of the Sun in a book about those processes may refer to a theory of matter, a cycle, an artistic convention, or more than one thing. The meaning depends on the passage and the object. If it is compared with a card, first we need to know which card it is: an old preserved original, a later print, a restoration, or a digital recreation?

Nor is it advisable to use “alchemy” as a synonym for “personal transformation.” That metaphor is common today and can be clear in a tarot reading workshop, but the modern use of the word does not prove that an old painter designed a card as a psychological lesson. The researcher can study both things if they are named separately: historical practice and present-day symbolic reading.

Four tests for moving from resemblance to influence

The first is chronological. The supposed source must exist before the work that would have received the influence. It is not enough to date a general theme, such as the Sun; the specific manuscript, engraving, or deck must be dated. If an alchemical table was printed after the card under study, it could not have served as its direct model. It could influence a later edition. The guide to painted and printed playing cards shows why medium and edition matter.

The second is material. Look for rare shared details, not only a common symbol. A sun with rays is found everywhere; a composition with several specific elements, distributed in the same way, invites closer investigation. Even then, the possibility of a common visual source or an extended convention remains open. A strong coincidence directs a search; by itself it does not identify the author of the borrowing.

The third is documentary. Is there a workshop book inventory, commission, annotation, engraver’s testimony, explanatory text for the card, or explicit citation of a treatise? The more precise the claim, the more precise the evidence must be. Saying “a modern reader connected this card with alchemy” can be substantiated with their book. Saying “the manufacturer of 1500 copied this emblem” requires evidence from that manufacturer or an especially solid and dated relationship between images.

The fourth is comparative. Look for other images from the same period that are not alchemical. If the motif appears in numerous religious works, calendars, or allegories, it ceases to be an exclusive sign of alchemy. Comparison with alternatives avoids confusing a shared visual vocabulary with a concrete chain of transmission. Someone who compares only the card and the treatise that resemble each other will always find a resemblance; a broader sample can change the explanation.

Illustrative example: The Sun

Let us imagine a card called “The Sun” in a Marseille edition and an alchemical print with a solar disk. The first fact is obvious and limited: both represent the Sun. We open the records for both objects and note dates, place, printer or workshop, provenance, and edition changes. Then we describe what actually coincides: position of the disk, number of rays, figures, landscape, printed words? We also note the differences. We do not immediately translate every detail into a single meaning.

Suppose the treatise turns out to be later than the deck. That chronology excludes the card having been copied from that edition of the treatise. There could still be an earlier shared source, but it would have to be found. If, instead, the print is earlier, the direction of influence becomes possible, not proven. We then ask whether that text circulated in the environment of the card workshop and whether other contemporary decks repeat the set of details. The honest thing may be to end with “there is a resemblance without documented transmission.”

The procedure is useful even for a nonacademic reading. You can tell the person consulting you: “This image reminds me of a motif of transformation; I am going to use it as a metaphor to talk about a process.” It is clear that you are proposing a reading. There is no need to assert that every person who painted or played those cards knew an alchemical treatise. The history of the triumphs helps keep their early context visible.

A later case in which the relationship can indeed be studied

The existence of modern alchemical interpretations of tarot is documented and does not need to invent an ancient ancestry. For example, the presentation of Oswald Wirth’s work in the Morgan shop dates Tarot of the Magicians to 1927 and notes that the author incorporated alchemical, Masonic, and Rosicrucian references. This is an attribution to an identifiable work and author. It does not prove that all earlier tarots had the same program.

We must also distinguish Wirth’s text from the contemporary commercial edition that presents it again. A sales listing can point toward the work and its date, but a claim about an exact page or image must be checked against the copy that is cited. The title of a work can promise an antiquity that the historical text does not substantiate. What matters is who formulates an interpretation and when it becomes documented.

Later reception can be the subject of valuable articles: why an author associated an arcanum with a process of change, what images they added or reinterpreted, and how their book circulated. That is history of modern esoteric ideas. It is not equivalent to proving the intention of the artisan of an earlier deck. The history of modern esoteric orders offers a similar method for separating context and origin.

How to write about the subject without exaggerating

A title like “The alchemical secret hidden forever in The Sun” promises more than a visual resemblance proves. A verifiable formulation would be “How some modern authors interpreted The Sun through alchemical ideas” if the article identifies authors and texts. If the article only compares images, it can be titled “The Sun in two visual traditions: similarities and differences.” The reader gains a more precise answer, and the article remains useful when new sources are added.

Within the text, it is worth labeling the degree of certainty. “The card shows a sun” describes what is visible. “The author of 1927 associates the card with…” attributes a claim to a source. “Perhaps the engraver knew…” is a hypothesis that needs research. None of these sentences should be silently transformed into “it is known that tarot is born from alchemy.” Changing the verb changes the burden of proof.

For a reproducible comparison, keep a record with six fields: object A and its edition, object B and its edition, dates, visible coincidences, visible differences, and the document that would connect both if it exists. Add a final field for alternatives: use of a common cultural symbol, copying from a third source, or coincidence. If the documentary field remains empty, the result is still interesting as a comparison, but not as a demonstrated genealogy.

Frequently asked questions

Are there alchemical symbols in tarot?

It depends on which deck and which date are being discussed. Some modern esoteric works incorporate alchemical readings explicitly. In other cards, an image that recalls an alchemical motif may come from a broader visual repertoire. Object and source must be identified before generalizing.

Does the Temperance card prove a relationship with alchemy?

The action of pouring liquid between vessels can inspire a reading of mixture or transformation. As historical proof of alchemical influence, it is not enough: the card would have to be dated, a specific model located, and a link demonstrated. Its meaning may include other allegorical traditions. Symbolic interpretation can be useful if it is presented as interpretation.

Can I use alchemy as a metaphor in a reading?

Yes, if you clarify that it is a metaphor or a chosen framework and not a prediction or a universal explanation of the card’s origin. In a consultation you can ask what process, material, or habit would change the situation and what concrete steps could be verified afterward. The metaphor becomes more useful when it helps formulate observable decisions.

Sources to check

The Morgan exhibition Tarot! situates the playful origin and later reinterpretations; its record on Wirth serves to locate a specific modern author. The Met essay on alchemy and decorative arts shows the historical variety of practices and materials. None of these sources establishes that Renaissance tarot was born as an alchemical book: that claim would need its own documentation.