WITH the dawn of liberty in the republican cities of Italy, we hail the
reappearance of the arts. Before the close of the thirteenth century,
Pisa, with the neighboring cities of Etruria, the ancient seats of
elegance, had already made progress in sculpture. The founder of this,
the primitive school of modern Europe, was Nicolo Pisano. The works of
this master, and those of his scholars, still remaining in his native
city, in Sienna, Arezzo, Pistoia, Orvieto, and Lucca, induce a very
high opinion indeed of the progress of the age. In the succeeding
century, the art was carried by his grandson, Andrea, to Florence,
the future head and fountain of art. Here, in 1350, was established
the first academy of design; and before the close of the century,
sculpture was firmly established, and far from unskilfully practised,
throughout a considerable portion of Italy. Nor was this the limit
of the influence, though, as upon its centre, the eye of history is
fixed chiefly here. Fraternities of itinerant sculptors carried their
art over Germany and France; and even in England the works of this
early school have been traced. In these countries the numerous Gothic
edifices, with their sculptured ornaments, furnished rich occasions for
the exercise of the art; but from this very circumstance it ceased, in
a certain degree, to be regarded as independent of architecture. In
Italy, private excellence was better preserved, and is easily traced.
But it was union with the grand moral and political principles of free
constitutions, that in Italy at once gave dignity to, and cherished the
progress of, the arts. In the ancient world we bade a common farewell
to freedom and to genius, nay, virtue at the same time would have
winged her flight, had she not found an asylum on earth in the bosom of
Christianity. Upon the ages now passing in review, when Freedom again
rises, we behold genius also revive, as if the sweeter sensibilities
and the manlier virtues had together slumbered through the long long
night of ignorance and of despotism. It is thus that spring, breathing
on bank and wild wood, unchains the bud and the blossom from the
tenderest floweret to the hardy oak.
In the progress of intelligence, the fifteenth century constitutes a
splendid era. Advances were then accomplished in moral, intellectual,
and political knowledge, which form the ground work of no
inconsiderable portion of modern science. In the arts of elegance,
especially in sculpture, the labours of this age will always hold
distinguished rank. In the first year of the century, we find six great
masters--competitors for the same public work--the bronze folding-doors
of the baptistry at Florence: Brunelleschi and Ghiberti, Florentines;
Jacomo della Quercia of Sienna; Nicolo Lamberti of Arezzo; Francisco
di Valdambrino, and Simon dei Colle, Tuscans. The competitors each
afterwards became the head of a flourishing school. Ghiberti, a youth
of twentythree, was the successful candidate; and the work thus
assigned to his superior merit, occupied forty years of his future
life, remaining still one of the proudest triumphs of modern talent.
The subjects are upon panels in relievo, representing historical
passages from the Old and New Testaments, and the same which were
afterwards declared worthy the gates of Paradise.
This era may be styled the commonwealth of sculpture; no single master
so far excelling his compeers as to impress upon the art the stamp and
bearing of one individual style. But among this crowd of illustrious
contemporaries, Donatello, born in 1383, and already an eminent artist
at the age of twenty, stands forth pre-eminently conspicuous by the
magnitude and excellence of his own labours, as also by the number and
merits of his pupils. His performances, in almost every variety of
material, are scattered over all Italy; the best are in Florence, but
the equestrian statue of Erasmus, Duke of Narni, in that city, merits
attention as the first attempt of such magnitude in the revival of art.
The numerous scholars of Donatello may be divided into two classes.
The first comprehends those who, without producing much of their own,
have attained reputation as fellow-labourers in the most considerable
undertakings of their master. The legitimate disciples of Donatello,
however, consists of those who, without servilely following in the
train of their instructer, preserved, or even in some respects
improved, the science derived from his precepts. These include most of
the leading masters of the latter part of the century, for in every
town of importance he had left works and planted a school. After the
demise of Ghiberti in 1455, and of Donatello in 1466, the art was far
from languishing in the hands of their successors, and especially under
Andrea du Verrochio, towards the close of the century. In the academy
founded by the Medici, many of the most eminent men of the next century
are to be found, as yet youthful though not undistinguished pupils.
In reviewing the ages which have been made to pass before us in their
leading characters, the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, we
perceive, may be termed the infancy of sculpture; with the fifteenth
begins its manhood, while in some respects full vigour was attained
even at the close of this period. During the two preceding centuries,
we find views frequently derived from the antique, of which many
specimens were brought directly from the East to Pisa. A character
of truth and simplicity, faithful imitation of nature, and just
expression, visibly begin from the time of Nicolo, whose own style
indeed is remarkable for sweetness and absence of all pretension. The
effect is never daringly ventured, but is sought to be discovered by
patient reiteration of effort and persevering imitation. At first,
therefore, no acknowledged principles of taste or of composition can
be perceived; a degree of restraint and meagreness consequently long
pervade the early labours of sculpture. But if in these the creative
faculties have seldom been conspicuously exerted; if the fancy be
rarely excited by novelty or variety of invention, the heart, even in
the sculpture of the fourteenth century, is often awakened to deep
feeling by unexpected beauties of the sweetest power, arising from
a diligent imitation of nature. The art being chiefly dedicated to
devotion, and to the memory of departed virtue, an air of dignified
sincerity, a touching portraiture of the gentler affections, diffuse
over the mind of the spectator a melancholy yet pleasing serenity, to
be felt rather than described--which give back the images of our own
sensibilities in all their simple, unpretending reality. The succeeding
age assumes a style and character more elevated, without being less
true. The simplicity is refined--equally removed from affectation
as from poverty--the skill of hand great, the execution bold and
felicitous; yet still exercised as a means, never as an instrument to
astonish or surprise. Nature is imitated faithfully, under the least
remote appearances, and by the simplest expression--the manner never
allures from the subject. The great proportion of the sculpture of
this century being in bronze, may account for a style of execution
in some respects harsh, with a degree of restraint, and occasionally
defective in energy. As respects intellectual merits, the design is
always chaste, often extremely elegant; the composition judicious,
seldom contrasted or grouped artificially. The expression is sweet and
calmly dignified, for rarely is strongly marked passion attempted.
No decided aims at representation of abstract or ideal beauty can be
observed; the powers of fancy are never presumed upon--seldom roused
by remote associations. But the mind of the artist, now no longer
entirely engrossed in mechanical detail, or confined by difficulties of
mere representation, expatiates, selects, combines; if the forms and
conceptions are not invested with the sublimity of ideal elevation, the
beautiful models of real existence are imitated not unsuccessfully.
Were the extent and object of art confined to simple imitation, the aim
of the sculptor would now nearly be attained. Yet, judging even by the
principles of the most refined criticism, one department, during the
fifteenth century, acquired a perfection which has not been surpassed,
rarely equalled, in succeeding times. Donatello and Ghiberti, the
former in high, the latter in low relief, have left models which
it does not easily appear possible to excel. The best of these are
Donatello's, in the church of San Lorenzo, representing the most
memorable events in the life of the Saviour; and Ghiberti's, already
noticed, on the gates of the baptistry at Florence. The subjects seem
to have imparted to the genius of the sculptors a portion of their own
sacred dignity, and calm and holy feeling. Indeed, to the influence of
religious impressions, we attribute, to a great degree, the improvement
of sculpture during this age, the principal undertakings being from
Scripture.