_Niccolò da Foligno_ (Umbrian: 1430-1492).
The pietism, characteristic of the Umbrian School generally,
is conspicuous in Niccolò, of whom Vasari remarks that "the
expression of grief in his angels, and the tears they shed,
are so natural that I do not believe any artist, however
excellent he might be, could have done it much better." But
he often overstrained this expression into grimace. He shows,
says Morelli, the "tendency to exaggeration which marks the
inhabitant of a small provincial town." He was capable,
however, of giving grace and beauty to his female heads and
heads of angels. Examples may be seen in the Brera at Milan,
and in the Vatican Gallery. It is probable that Niccolò owed
a good deal to Benozzo Gozzoli, who from 1452 to 1457 was
working not far from Foligno (see Morelli's _German Galleries_,
p. 258). Niccolò is often called Niccolò _Alunno_. The origin
of this mistake, made first by Vasari, is that on one of his
pictures he is described as "Nicholaus _alumnus_ Flogging"
(Niccolò, a native, or alumnus, of Foligno).
In this picture the artist seems to revel in the depiction of emotion,
and (as it were) in "piling up the agony." There is the same pleasure
here in the use of a new gift--that of expressing emotion--as in 583,
in that of expressing perspective. The central scene of the Crucifixion
is surrounded by the Agony in the Garden, Christ bearing his Cross, the
Descent from the Cross, and the Resurrection. Note as characteristic of
the _genius loci_ in the Umbrian School that St. Francis of Assisi is
kneeling at the foot of the cross.
The acquisition of this picture by the National Gallery (in 1881) had
a curious history. It was formerly in the convent of Santa Chiara at
Aquila, and on the suppression of the convent became the property of
the State. But by the Archbishop's orders it was successfully secreted.
On his death, some years later, it was conveyed to the house of one of
the canons of the cathedral, by whom it was sold to a dealer in Rome.
The dealer made a good thing out of it; he bought it for £260, and
sold it (with another small picture) to our National Gallery for £1200.
The Italian Government instituted a prosecution for theft, which,
however, was subsequently dropped for civil proceedings for damages
against all the persons concerned, "except the Englishman who, it is
believed, bought the picture in good faith."