GIOTTO AT PADUA.
"These temples grew as grows the grass:
Art might obey, but not surpass;
The passive master lent his hand
To the vast soul that o'er him planned,
And the same power that built the shrine
O'erspread the tribes that knelt therein."--_Emerson._
Fancy a wet, cloudy, spring day in an old Italian town; the only
objects visible in the little grass-grown square where the hotel
stands, being two or three mournful carriages, with the sorriest
steeds harnessed to them, that even Italian feeding can produce, and
surrounding these, houses of mildewed stone, faced occasionally with
brown plaster, large flakes of which are peeling off in every
direction. The drivers have long since given up all hope of even a
stray tourist, and ensconced themselves in the low wine-shop that you
may see at the corner of the square, whence the sound of their voices
and the smoke of their cigars, break forth occasionally into the heavy
atmosphere.
Every now and then a slippered figure, with white stockings down at
heel, and black stuff petticoat wrapped carefully over its head,
hurries by on some domestic errand, or a stray dog limps dejectedly in
and out of the carriage wheels, in search of stray scraps of sausage
or cheese, which might indeed well be there, since the drivers eat
both, pretty well all day long. To close the picture, an Englishman
in a tweed suit, staring contemplatively at the prospect from the
doorway of the principal hotel, and wondering whether it was really
worth while to travel half across Europe, in order to reach such a
resting-place: wondering also whom he shall get to direct him to the
Arena Chapel, for this is Padua, once most learned of universities,
and now dullest of cities, and it is here that Giotto painted the
Scrovegni Chapel from floor to ceiling.
After more or less contradictory directions and several fruitless
attempts, I discovered the entrance to the enclosure wherein the
chapel stands, and being by this time wet, tired, dirty, and
considerably out of temper, immediately resolved to leave it to the
next day to see the pictures, and returned to my hotel depressed in
spirit, but trying to look forward to the morrow. All was unchanged in
the square, save that the dog had departed, and the vetturini grown a
trifle more noisy; so after a solitary dinner, wherein the landlord
figured as sole attendant, and macaroni formed the principal dish, I
turned into my room, and consoled myself with concocting an imaginary
leader to the _Times_ on the fallacy of believing that Italian weather
was better than English, and so to bed.
Never was change more complete than that I woke to the next morning. A
blazing sun, such as we see in July only, shone in the midst of a blue
sky, and streamed brightly in upon the paved bedchamber, and a fresh
little breeze rattled cheerfully to and fro the big window-shutters,
and hinted at its being time to get up. A glance into the square
revealed my vetturino friends cheerfully cracking their whips at
imaginary flies, and, seated by the side of the fountain, a
brown-skinned maiden in the whitest of linen and heaviest of earrings,
was amicably partaking of a chunk of sausage, with the youngest of the
party. The very dog had turned up again, and looked at least twice the
size that he did yesterday, and was sitting at a respectful distance
from the last-named couple, watching for scraps with cheerful
confidence.
Now, if ever, it appeared to me was the time for a first favourable
impression of a great artist, and so, hurrying through dressing and
breakfast, I started for the chapel. Venting the content of my soul as
I went along, in the solitary Italian phrase I was master of, I waved
my hand to the young coachman, and said, _ché bel' tempo_. He looked
down at his dark-eyed damsel; she was sitting on the step of the
carriage by this time, and if ever a coachman agreed with any one,
which is doubtful, that young fellow did with me; though I gathered
his assent merely from his eloquent looks, for of what he said I have
not the faintest conception.
So, like Æneas, with hope and fortune favouring me, I drew near to the
great wooden gate which marks the entrance to the Arena. The large
gates are immovable, but a little lattice door opens if you push it
deftly at the right moment after having rung the bell, and on
entering, you see a long garden, where currants and apple-trees,
acacias and vines, almonds and poplars, are all mixed together in a
confusion of greenery. At the end of the narrow gravel walk rises a
house, not unlike an English suburban villa, much out of repair, in
front of which two or three small children are tumbling about in
perilous proximity to an old well, while at what should be the
dining-room window, stands a girl twisting up her long, black hair,
with the most perfect composure. Anything more delightfully unlike the
usual aspect of a show place could hardly be imagined, and at first
(not being able to see the chapel at all) I thought I had mistaken my
direction for the third time, but there was the servant evidently
getting ready to receive me, and, as I had undoubtedly rung the bell,
I walked boldly up to the house.
[Illustration: PADUA.
_From a drawing by the Author._]
A few steps explained the matter. The chapel stands to the right of
the house, at the edge of the orchard, and the servant was doing up
her hair previous to bringing out the keys. The chapel outside is
simply a barn-shaped building, with a gable roof, absolutely
undecorated in any way whatever, unless a round-arched door, with the
remains of a very small fresco above it, can be called decorative. The
entrance is at the west end of the building, which is lighted from the
south side only, by six long narrow windows. The gable roof hardly
projects at all beyond the walls. The whole appearance of the chapel
being somewhat like those box-like constructions drawn by children, to
represent a house. If it be a proper criticism to call a thing ugly
which has only been constructed for a certain purpose, and which has
fulfilled that purpose fairly well for six hundred years, the
Scrovegni Chapel may fairly be called by that name; but personally I
must confess to a feeling of gratification at finding there was
absolutely no attempt at architectural embellishment in the whole
building, and many will probably share this feeling. Knowing that the
interior was absolutely covered with frescoes, each of which was
almost priceless, it seemed to me appropriate, both to the pictures,
and the simplicity of style in the master who executed them, that
their covering should be not sculptured marble or vaulted stone, but
simply plain, honest building.
After all the chapel was hardly more to the frescoes than is the
canvas to the picture, and it afforded a refreshing contrast to the
way in which things are done nowadays, to remember that Enrico
Scrovegni,[57] wishing to build a temple to the honour, and for the
service of, the Virgin, thought it more necessary to give her the work
of genius within her shrine, than to adorn its exterior with costly
materials and sculptured ornament. Given that it was a choice between
Giotto's frescoes and elaborate architectural design (and we may
suppose that a plain citizen could not afford both), then we can look
at this homely building with pleasure rather than repulsion, as we do
at the rough coating of some precious stone. And if we do not grumble
at the plainness of the building, still less will we do so at its
position in the quaint garden-close, where flickering shadows from the
bright leaves of the acacias dot the gravel path, and where from
behind the chapel rises the humming of the custodian's bee-hives.[58]
Is not this such a surrounding as we might best desire for our
painter's work? In front of his masterpieces, an orchard green and
gay, with trembling leaves and flashing sunshine, and human with the
soft voices of laughing children; and behind, a rich meadow, where a
few cattle doze lazily through their time, and long ranges of
bee-hives stand in the very shadow of the chapel; and if the eye lifts
its gaze from meadow and orchard, with a sense of something wanting to
the full agreement of the surroundings and the painter's mind, it
meets the great dome of the neighbouring church rising against the
cloudless sky, as it might in one of Giotto's own frescoes, and is
satisfied. So with the rustling of the leaves, and the murmur of the
bees in our ears, and something of the bright sunshine in our hearts,
we enter the chapel where the custodian waits patiently enough, having
had experience of many tourists and their foolish ways.
A long vaulted chamber plainly divided by a high arch into nave and
chancel, lighted by six high narrow windows, all on the right hand
wall, the entire interior surface covered with frescoes, three tiers
of which run from the ceiling to within about eight feet of the
ground; at intervals, below this lowest tier, there are other frescoes
of smaller size in monochrome, symbolical of the various Christian
virtues and vices, surrounded by craftily painted borders, imitating
mosaic of coloured marbles.
Wherever the eye turns it meets a bewilderment of colour pure and
radiant, and yet restful to the eye; tints which resemble in their
perfect harmony of brightness the iridescence of a shell, and seem to
be possessed of something of the same strange quality of imprisoned
light. From the blue ceiling, with its medallions and golden stars, to
the lowest range of mosaic, there is literally not a spot where the
eye cannot rest with pleasure; and the whole interior, owing perhaps
to its perfect simplicity of form, and the absence of all other
decoration than the frescoes, presents less the aspect of a building
ornamented with paintings, than that of some gigantic opal in the
midst of which the spectator stands.
It is difficult to speak without seeming exaggeration of the effect
produced, or to attempt to convey to those of my readers who are not
familiar with the spot, the peculiar qualities of the colouring in
these paintings. In England, and to the majority of Englishmen, pure
colour, bright colour, and _staring_ colour, are almost
interchangeable terms, and depth of colour is but too frequently
understood to mean depth of _shadow_. Now you must quite get rid of
the idea that the colouring of these frescoes is crude or violent,
because I call it "pure."
If there is one quality of our master's work which is more certain
than another, it is the general harmony of his tints, the absence of
any discordant effect from his paintings. The great difference between
his system of colouring and that of later masters is, that his harmony
is gained by means of the combination of broad masses of comparatively
simple tints, while later artists discovered that by paying greater
attention to the gradation of colour, its subtle variations of light
and shade, and its enhancement by means of complementary tints, they
could produce a greater truth to nature, as well as a greater amount
of colour beauty, than in any other way--and one, moreover, which was
applicable to all the varying conditions of nature. Giotto's system
was one which he would have been the first to discard, had it occurred
to him to paint a picture save in full daylight, for its beauty is
incompatible with any other effect. It must always be remembered in
thinking of his work, that he was the successor of men who absolutely
banished shadow from their pictures; for the gloomy hues of the older
Byzantine pictures were not representative of shadow, any more than
their rich tones represented light; and Giotto's master, Cimabue, had
revolted from the darkness of his predecessors' pictures to
comparatively light tints.
It was, of course, impossible for Giotto to work out an entire system
of chiaroscuro for himself (as a matter of fact it took another two
hundred years to accomplish that advance); the marvel is that by his
exquisite arrangement of tint he was able to compose pictures which
are to this day comparable in colour beauty to those of the great
masters of succeeding ages, though they are not comparable in subtlety
of colour, nor is there ever such beauty of a special colour gained as
in the work of the later artists.[59]
[Illustration: PARADISE.
_FRESCO BY GIOTTO._
IN THE CAPPELLA DELL' ARENA, PADUA.
(_Greatly restored._)]
The series of paintings comprises illustrations of the apocryphal
history of Joachim and Anna, the Virgin's parents, the life of the
Virgin up to the period of the Annunciation, and finally, a set of
illustrations of the life and passion of Jesus Christ, culminating in
a fresco above the choir showing Him enthroned in glory. Thus the
series forms one connected history, supplementing which there is on
the great wall above the door a representation of the last judgment.
Every fresco is surrounded by a frame, painted in imitation of
coloured mosaic, and at intervals, beneath the lowest row of the
scenes from the life of Christ, there are representations of the
Virtues, each of which has its corresponding Vice facing it upon the
opposite side of the chapel. In the arrangement it should be noticed
that each Virtue has its head turned to the portion of the Last
Judgment fresco representing Heaven, or to the fresco of Christ in
Glory; each Vice looks towards the portion representing Hell. These
symbolical figures are in greyish green, with occasionally a
background of dull red; the historical works are in various colours.
This arrangement is probably due in some measure to the rules of
Byzantine art, but here the resemblance ends; nothing can be more
original, owing less to tradition, than the composition of the various
pictures in this series. They are not so much an improvement upon
Byzantine art, as a wholly new departure; the difference is something
like that between the gallop of a horse, and the fierce rush of a
locomotive, not only a greater pace, but a changed mode of
progression. It is difficult to see how the one could have ever
developed into the other, and there is no clue left, save such as may
be found in that lonely shepherd life led by the young artist, amidst
the olive groves and grey hills of Vespignano. I subjoin a table of
the subjects of these series in the order in which they here occur;
but I do not propose to weary my readers with a description of the
composition of each picture; it will be sufficient if I indicate the
main features of a few of the most important.[60]
The order of the drawings in the Arena Chapel is as follows:--
1. Joachim's Offering rejected by the High Priest.
2. Joachim retires to the Sheepfold.
3. The Angel appears to Anna.
4. The Sacrifice of Joachim.
5. The Angel appears to Joachim.
6. The Meeting of Joachim and Anna.
7. The Birth of the Virgin Mary.
8. The Presentation of the Virgin.
9. The Rods are brought to the High Priest.
10. The Watching of the Rods at the Altar.
11. The Espousal of the Virgin Mary.
12. The Virgin Mary returns to her Home.
13. The Annunciation--the Angel Gabriel.
14. The Annunciation--the Virgin Mary.
15. The Marriage of the Virgin.
16. The Salutation.
17. The Nativity.
18. The Wise Men's Offering.
19. The Presentation in the Temple.
20. The Flight into Egypt.
21. The Massacre of the Innocents.
22. The Young Christ in the Temple.
23. The Baptism of Christ.
24. The Marriage in Cana.
25. The Raising of Lazarus.
26. The Entry into Jerusalem.
27. The Expulsion from the Temple.
28. The Hiring of Judas.
29. The Last Supper.
30. The Washing of the Feet.
31. The Kiss of Judas.
32. Christ before Caiaphas.
33. The Scourging of Christ.
34. Christ bearing His Cross.
35. The Crucifixion.
36. The Entombment.
37. The Resurrection.
38. The Ascension.
39. The Descent of the Holy Spirit.
The first of this series which deserves especial attention is that
numbered two in the above table, the representation of Joachim's
retirement to the sheepfold, after his offering has been rejected by
the high priest. This is especially remarkable as being the first of
his series of the Arena frescoes in which Giotto's early training
shows itself. Nothing can be more marked than the evident delight of
the painter in depicting any form of this shepherd life. Throughout
his works every opportunity of introducing animal nature, especially
sheep nature, is eagerly seized and made the most of, and, as in this
fresco, the animals have invariably a character of their own, and are
by no means walking gentlemen in the scene represented. Look, for
instance, at the varied action of the sheep in this composition,
and the eager welcome that Joachim's dog is giving to his master. In
the third and fourth pictures, too, of the _Sacrifice of Joachim_, and
the subsequent appearance of the angel, is the delight of the painter
in animal idiosyncrasies apparent, as in the two rams butting at one
another, and the air of quiet watchfulness in which the dog lies down,
with a sense of responsibility strong upon him.
[Illustration: JOACHIM RETIRES TO THE SHEEPFOLD. BY GIOTTO.
_In the Cappella dell' Arena, Padua._]
The _Meeting of Joachim and Anna_, chiefly remarkable for the grace
and beauty of the two leading figures; it is somewhat curious to
notice how the position of Anna's head suggests that of a famous
modern picture, perhaps the most celebrated ever painted in England,
the _Huguenots_, by Mr. J. E. Millais, R.A. _A propos_ of this fresco,
Mr. Ruskin remarks, that the artist has heightened the effect of the
leading figures by wilfully coarsening the features of the subordinate
characters, and that the horizontal lines of the architecture enhance
by contrast the beauty of the curved draperies. I am, however,
inclined to think that the first of these contrasts is accidental, as
the type of face of the servants in this composition, is found
throughout the minor characters in Giotto's pictures; indeed, it may
be noticed that, whether from his own uncomeliness, or some other more
recondite reason, the painter had a curious difficulty in depicting
beautiful faces, that belongs to him alone of contemporary masters.
This does not apply to beauty of gesture or line, to which he was
excessively sensitive.
8. The _Presentation of the Virgin_--the Virgin represented not as a
child, but, as Lord Lindsay remarks, a dwarf woman. The figure of Anna
in this picture is one of the least graceful in Giotto's works.
10. The _Watching of the Rods at the Altar_.--Chiefly characteristic
as showing Giotto's power of seizing the expression in the simplest
actions, which is most characteristic of the subject; in this fresco
the eagerness of the watchers is shown with a quite unmistakeable
plainness, especially in the three centre figures, though all of these
have their backs more or less turned to the spectator.
11. The _Espousal of the Virgin_.--Some of the figures in this
composition are very fine, such, for instance, as those of Joseph, the
high priest, and the youth behind, who is in the act of breaking the
rod over his knee. Mr. Ruskin remarks of this last figure that in
Perugino's treatment of the same subject (at Cannes) there is "nothing
in the action of the disappointed suitors so perfectly true and
touching as that of the youth breaking his rod in this composition of
Giotto."
12. The _Return of the Virgin Mary to her Home._--The figure of the
violin-player in this composition is remarkable, not only for its
beauty, but for being identical with that of one of the attendants in
the fresco of the _Daughter of Herodias dancing before Herod_, in the
Santa Croce at Florence. It is a very quiet picture, full of slow
movement and dignified grace, but a little wanting in the variety of
action which is generally characteristic of Giotto's work, and more
severe in the lines of the drapery.
13. The _Annunciation_--the Angel Gabriel and the Virgin Mary. These
are two single figures which together encircle the arch above the
entrance to the choir of the chapel, and are as beautiful as any of
the compositions; especially fine is the attitude of the lines of
drapery of the angel's figure. Giotto seems not to have attempted to
render the Virgin's face beautiful either in expression or feature.
16. The _Salutation_--almost the first fresco where Giotto's full
powers are seen. I know no two figures more finer in their way than
those of the Virgin and Elizabeth. Here the plainness of Mary's face
seems quite obscured by the beauty of its expression, and every line
of the two figures helps to tell the story. This picture is smaller
than the others, owing to its place beneath the figure of the Virgin
in the _Annunciation_, and is nearly bare of all background.
17. The _Nativity_.--This Nativity is doubly interesting from the fact
of the subject being repeated at Assisi in the lower church[61] in the
series generally attributed to Giotto. The one at Padua is as
beautiful as any of the Arena frescoes, and in every way finer than
the Assisi rendering, which latter is almost certainly the work of one
of Giotto's pupils, and is as stiff and mechanical in its general
arrangement as the former is easy and natural.
I need not enter into the reasons which have convinced me of Giotto
not having personally executed the Assisi Nativity, as they are given
at length in a subsequent chapter.[62] The varied action of the
angels, the natural gestures of the Virgin and the shepherds and the
quiet harmony of blue and grey colour (in which this fresco is almost
entirely painted), are especially worthy of notice. Very noticeable
too are the attentive animals, and the natural manner in which the
Virgin turns half round in her bed to place the child in its
attendant's arms. On the right are the shepherds listening to the
angels, who fly hither and thither above the mountain background; on
the left, the ox and ass stretching their heads towards the Virgin's
couch.
18. The _Adoration of the Magi_.--The composition of this fresco in
its leading figures is very fine, and somewhat more elaborate than
customary in this series. The artist has tried very hard to get some
expression of interest in the camel, who is being held by an attendant
on the left of the picture, and has actually succeeded to some extent,
despite the Noah's-ark-like appearance of the animal, caused no doubt
by Giotto's insufficient acquaintance with its shape.
19. The _Presentation in the Temple_.--There are two incidents in this
scene, for the right interpretation of the latter of which I am
indebted to Mr. Ruskin. The first of them is the naturalism of the
child, which is evidently struggling to leave the high priest's arms
and get back to its mother, who holds out her arms to receive it; the
second being the approach of an angel to Simeon, who is supposed by
Mr. Ruskin to typify the angel of death, "sent in visible fulfilment
of the thankful words of Simeon: 'Lord, now lettest Thou Thy servant
depart in peace.'" The drapery of the Virgin in this fresco, though
simple, is very fine.
20. The _Flight into Egypt_.--One of the simplest of the series. The
colour in several places completely gone, as, for instance, in the
Virgin's robe, which, originally blue, is now a yellowish white, the
dark shadow of the drapery alone remaining. The patient pace of the
tired ass on which the Virgin is seated, if contrasted with that of
the one on which Christ is riding in the fresco of the _Entry into
Jerusalem_, will show how minute was Giotto's observation and
appreciation of animal life.
21. The _Murder of the Innocents_.--Perhaps the least pleasing of the
series, though no doubt much of its lack of beauty is owing to the
change of colour which this fresco has sustained, a change which, from
some unknown cause, has been much more radical than in most of this
series. The composition could, however, have been at no time a
beautiful one, and the heap of stiff wooden dolls (for such they seem)
that represents the slaughtered innocents is simply ugly. The fresco,
however, is full of action, and the figure of the leading executioner,
who stands drawing back his sword to pierce the child, whom he holds
head downwards in his left hand, is one of the most vigorous Giotto
ever conceived.
22. The _Teaching of Christ in the Temple_.--This fresco is so much
injured by damp as to be practically destroyed.
23. The _Baptism of Christ by John_.--Wholly Byzantine in its
arrangement, especially in the water, which is depicted as a heavy
green wall, reaching half way up the fresco and covering Christ's body
as high as the chest. Mary and Joseph stand on the right bank,
attendants on the left, Christ in the centre of the picture, with a
glory streaming down upon him. It is somewhat curious to observe that
Giotto has made a compromise in the garments of the Apostle John, and
while clothing him in a pink robe, for the sake of the fresco's
colour, has allowed a little bit of the camel's-hair garment to be
seen beneath the long drapery.
24. The _Wedding in Cana_.--A touch of nature in the fat butler in the
foreground, who is swigging away at the wine before taking it to the
table; otherwise this fresco is one of the most commonplace of the
series. It is worthy of notice that in all cases where Giotto has to
represent a scene in which the actors are seated, the artist seems to
lose much of his attractiveness; to become more commonplace. It is as
if the dramatic instinct in him refused to work freely except when he
could depict varied actions.
25. The _Raising of Lazarus_.--This is another fresco full of the
various attitudes of surprise and energy in which Giotto delighted so
much. The pose of the principal figure of the disciples should be
noticed, as it is very characteristic of our artist, and occurs in
many of his frescoes where surprise or grief has to be indicated. The
body is bent slightly forward with the arms thrown abruptly back, the
hand hollowed with the palm towards the ground, the fingers held
together and the thumb as much spread out as possible. The figures of
the two attendants in this fresco, who are raising the heavy slab
which covered the tomb of Lazarus, are of very marked action; the one
on the right trying to raise the slab to his shoulder, while the
left-hand one, with feet planted firmly wide apart, is just bending to
the strain of lifting his end of the stone from the ground, or as a
rowing man would say, is just "getting his weight on."
26. The _Entry into Jerusalem_.--Greatly injured by damp but still
interesting. Notice the figure of the woman, whose cloak has tumbled
over her head in her excitement, and the haste with which the two boys
in the background are climbing the palm-trees to get a good view.
27. The _Expulsion of the Money-changers_.--Like the last this
composition is one of varied interest, but the left-hand portion of it
having been considerably damaged by damp is scarcely intelligible. The
attitude of Christ is energetic, and there is a fine contrast in
feeling between the two money-changers on the right hand of the
picture, one of whom shrinks away, while the other seems inclined to
stand his ground, while the precipitation with which the goat is
leaping out of the little pen is one of those little semi-burlesque
touches of animal life which Giotto introduces whenever he gets a
chance.
[Illustration: THE ENTOMBMENT OF CHRIST.
_FRESCO BY GIOTTO._
IN THE CAPPELLA DELL' ARENA, PADUA.]
28. The _Hiring of Judas_.--A small composition of four figures,
placed on the wall beneath the arch of the choir, immediately beneath
the _Angel of the Annunciation_. Judas has already received the bag of
money, and the high priest, with one finger raised, like a sort of
ecclesiastical Dogberry, is just giving him his last instructions. The
Devil, too, in the shape of a black hobgoblin, with claws and tail, is
also giving the apostate advice, whispering it into his ear. The small
fresco beneath this and in the corresponding place on the other side
of the choir is simply painted with a representation of an arched
ceiling, wall, and window, apparently intended to give the impression
from a distance of there being a side transept to the choir.
29. The _Last Supper_.--In this, as in all his frescoes of seated
figures, Giotto is less at home than usual. It is curious to notice
that the attitude of John in this fresco is the same as was adopted in
all the later renderings of this scene. The moment chosen is the usual
one of the Saviour's speech--"He that dippeth his hand in the dish
with me, the same shall betray me."[63]
30. The _Washing of the Feet_.--Very characteristic of Giotto and
wonderfully true to life in the positions and actions of all
concerned. Notice the apostle tying his sandal on the left of the
picture, and the one who is about to have his feet washed, holding up
his long robe lest it should get wet.
31. The _Betrayal_.--This composition is much more thickly filled with
figures than most of the series, and is one of the finest, though
hardly one of the most beautiful. The figures of Christ and Judas are
both grand in their respective ways, and stand out vividly from the
crowd that surrounds them. There is no mistake about what is
transpiring; one does not have to look for the action in a middle of
graceful lines, but it presents itself strongly and at the first
glance. The figure of the high priest who points out Christ to the
soldiery is also very fine, dignified and yet eager in action, and
with a mixed expression of triumph and anxiety. In colour this fresco
bears comparison with any in the chapel.
32. The _Trial_.--"And Pilate rent his garments," &c. Chiefly
interesting for the very beautiful figure of Christ, who stands with
hands tied and body slightly bent, half turned away from his judge,
the face expressing resignation, but in an even greater degree
removedness from the scene around, possessed by some over-mastering
idea.
33. The _Crown of Thorns_.--Here Giotto is again in a somewhat
burlesque humour: the delight of those who are here mocking, tickling,
pinching, and smiting Christ is evidently the ruling motive of the
picture. It is noticeable that here there are only servants engaged in
the derision and tormenting, not soldiers, according to the commoner
rendering.
34. The _Bearing of the Cross_.--In this fresco the figures of both
Christ and Mary are fine, that of Christ being similar to the attitude
at the trial above referred to.
35. The _Crucifixion_.--One of the most beautiful of the series. The
Magdalen kneels at the foot of the cross, weeping bitterly; St. John,
half fainting, is supported by two disciples on the left of the
picture; on the right the soldiers squabble over the division of
Christ's robe; the Saviour looks down upon the Magdalen, and above the
cross fly here and there angels.
36 and 37. The _Entombment_ and the _Resurrection_.--These are the two
most beautiful frescoes in the chapel, so beautiful that they throw
all the others into comparative shade, and fortunately they are both
little injured by damp. In the first, Christ is being prepared for
burial by the disciples and the two Maries. The Magdalen supports his
feet upon her knees; the Mother lays one arm upon his breast, whilst
she raises his head towards her with the other in a last embrace. St.
John bends over the body in Giotto's usual attitude of grief and
horror; other disciples and attendants stand round weeping and
watching; in the background are mountains, and above them a choir of
angels.
In the _Resurrection_, the soldiers sleep beside the red porphyry tomb
where Christ was laid, and on which, at head and foot, sit the
white-winged, white-robed angels. Nearly in the centre kneels the
Magdalen in a long robe of crimson, which shrouds her form from head
to foot all but her face; to the extreme right of the picture stands
Christ, half turning away from the kneeling woman, one arm
outstretched as though warning her "_noli me tangere_."
38 and 39. The _Ascension_, and the _Descent of the Holy Spirit_.--The
former of these two frescoes, which form the concluding ones of the
series, is very formal in its arrangement--the Christ being in the
centre of the picture, with hands raised to the choir of angels, who
hover on both sides. Below, the disciples are also in two groups, nor
is there very much to dwell upon in their expression or gestures. The
whole fresco seems as if Giotto had felt himself more fettered by the
traditional manner of representing the scene, or less at liberty to
treat it in his own peculiar fashion, than in the preceding scenes of
the series. The _Descent of the Holy Spirit_ is very similar in the
arrangement of the seated figures to that of the _Last Supper_, and is
only remarkable for its very delicate colouring.
[Illustration: "NOLI ME TANGERE."
_FRESCO BY GIOTTO._
IN THE CAPPELLA DELL' ARENA, PADUA.]
This picture of the _Descent of the Holy Spirit_ completes the series
of the history of the Virgin and our Saviour, and we have only now to
mention the symbolical figures in monochrome, which are painted at
intervals beneath the lowest row of frescoes, and which it is probable
were an after thought of Giotto's, possibly suggested to him by Dante,
who, as I have said, was living at Padua during the time when Giotto
was occupied in painting the Arena Chapel.
Be that as it may, it is the fact that in no other place does Giotto
show much tendency towards symbolical representation; these are the
only figures of the kind that we know to have been executed by his
hand. In this arrangement all the Virtues are painted upon the right
side of the chapel, and have their faces turned to the heavenly side
of the great fresco above the door; the Vices are on the left, and
look in like manner to the part of that fresco representing hell. The
list is as follows:--
VIRTUES.
1. Hope.
2. Charity.
3. Faith.
4. Justice.
5. Temperance.
6. Fortitude.
7. Prudence.
VICES.
8. Folly.
9. Inconstancy.
10. Anger.
11. Injustice.
12. Infidelity.
13. Avarice.
14. Despair.
This list is in the order in which the frescoes are placed round the
chapel, beginning on the right hand of the doorway and returning to
the left of the entrance; it will be seen, therefore, that the
corresponding Virtue and Vice face each other throughout the series.
Some of these allegorical figures are very beautiful; especially there
should be noticed _Charity_, holding a basket of fruit in one hand and
stretching forth the other to the _Almighty_, who bends down from
heaven to place some fruit in her hand. As Mr. Ruskin has remarked,
the figure is made to trample upon money-bags, as if in contempt.
_Hope_ also is a very beautiful figure flying upward with outstretched
arms, and an expression of rapture and longing upon her face. After
these _Justice_ and _Temperance_ are the finest. Of the Vices,
_Injustice_ is perhaps the most interesting, if it is only for the
sake of giving a clear example of how far Giotto understood the nature
of trees. The foreground of this fresco being a wood, behind which
sits _Injustice_ in a cave, with a sword in his left hand and a
grappling-hook in his right, to catch the unwary traveller, who is
represented in a small predella to the picture, being robbed and
stripped of his clothes. _Anger_ too is a fine figure, rending her
garment apart in futile wrath, and so is _Despair_, with clenched
fists and downcast head. On the whole, this series of Virtues and
Vices is a remarkable one for the plainness with which the thing
symbolised is shown, and the penetration which has led Giotto in
almost every case to the real root of the Virtue or Vice. For a full
description of these most interesting frescoes the reader cannot do
better than refer to the little book written for the Arundel Society
by Mr. Ruskin, entitled _Giotto and his Works in Padua_.
* * * * *
NOTE.--"This chapel, built in, or about, the year 1303, appears
to have been intended to replace one which had long existed
upon the spot; and in which from the year 1278 an annual
festival had been held on Ladyday, in which the Annunciation
was represented in the manner of our English mysteries (and
under the same title: 'Una sacra rappresentazione di quel
_mistero_'), with dialogue and music, both vocal and
instrumental. Scrovegni's purchase of the ground would not be
allowed to interfere with the national custom; but he is
reported by some writers to have rebuilt the chapel with
greater costliness, in order, as far as possible, to efface the
memory of his father's unhappy life. But Federici, in his
history of the Cavalieri Godenti, supposes that Scrovegni was a
member of that body, and was assisted by them in decorating the
new edifice. The order of Cavalieri Godenti was instituted in
the beginning of the thirteenth century, to defend the
'existence,' as Selvatica states it, but, more accurately, the
'dignity' of the Virgin against the various heretics by whom it
was beginning to be assailed. His knights were at first called
'Cavaliers of St. Mary;' but soon increased in power and riches
to such a degree that from their general habits of life they
received the nickname of the 'Merry Brothers.'
"Federici gives powerful reasons for his opinion that the Arena
Chapel was employed in the ceremonies of their order; and Lord
Lindsay observes 'that the fulness with which the history of
the Virgin is recounted on its walls, adds to the plausibility
of his supposition.'
"Enrico Scrovegni was, however, towards the close of his life
driven into exile, and died at Venice in 1320. But he was
buried in the chapel he had built, and has one small monument
in the sacristy as the founder of the building, in which he is
represented under a Gothic niche, standing with his hands
clasped and his eyes raised, while behind the altar is his
tomb, on which, as usual at this period, is a recumbent statue
of him. The chapel itself may not unwarrantably be
considered as one of the first efforts of Popery in resistance
to the Reformation; for the Reformation, though not victorious
till the sixteenth, began in reality in the thirteenth century;
and the remonstrances of such bishops as our own Grossteste,
the martyrdom of the Albigenses in the Dominican crusades, and
the murmurs of those 'heretics,' against whose aspersions of
the majesty of the Virgin this chivalrous order of the
Cavalieri Godenti was instituted, were as truly the signs of
the new era in religion, as the opponent work of Giotto on the
walls of the Arena was a sign of the approach of a new era in
art."--From _The Arena Chapel at Padua_, by JOHN RUSKIN.
[Illustration: JUSTICIA.
_FRESCO BY GIOTTO._
IN THE CAPPELLA DELL' ARENA, PADUA.]
FOOTNOTES:
[57] See note at the end of this chapter for Ruskin's account of the
chapel's use and its founder.
[58] I beg the custodian's pardon, for on going to the chapel again
this year, I find that it is the Royal Society of Api-Culture who are
responsible for the dozen or so of hives.
[59] It would take me at least a page to justify and define this
assertion. I must trust my readers to understand that it is written in
no depreciation of later artists, and that it only refers to colour as
seen in light, scarcely modified at all by shade.
[60] Throughout this book I have purposely avoided, wherever it was
possible, long descriptions of the subject matter of the pictures
mentioned. The almost inevitable tendency of such description, unless
it is done with the greatest reticence as well as skill, is to
withdraw the reader's attention from the artist, either to the author
or the subject spoken of, and as my main endeavour in writing this
book has been to bring the peculiarities of the artist into constant
prominence, it would have defeated my purpose to enter into
descriptive writing.
[61] See Lower Church of Assisi, Chapter X.
[62] See Chapter on the Lower Church of Assisi, p. 111.
[63] Almost the only artist who ever thoroughly vanquished the
difficulty of representing the Last Supper, without stiffness of
arrangement, was Tintoretto in his great picture in the Scuola San
Rocco. The celebrated Leonardo fresco at Milan of this subject suffers
in a measure from the same difficulty as Giotto's work, though in a
less degree.