BUILDING IN THE DAYS OF LORENZO DE’ MEDICI.
ARCHITECTURE was always a subject of great interest to Lorenzo de’
Medici; he possessed an unusual knowledge of the art.[164] It was he
who made the plan for the façade of Sta. Maria del Fiore, which was
executed in wood by Jacopo Sansovino and painted in chiaroscuro by
Andrea del Sarto more than twenty years after the designer’s death,
when his son, Pope Leo X., made his public entry into Florence.[165]
We shall see what share he took in the project for the completion of
this façade. He was intimate with several of the chief architects of
the time. A letter, written to him from Rome by Alberti,[166] unluckily
not on the subject of art but about a proposed exchange of property,
shows on what good terms they were: ‘I am glad that thou dost address
me in confidence worthy of our old friendship; and as I am conscious of
my obligations, I am ready to do for thee and at thy desire anything
that can be agreeable to one who loves thee. If what thou askest of me
were not founded on reason, thou wouldest neither have consented to act
as mediator thyself, nor have sought out a third party to do so.’ The
brothers Da Majano and Sangallo enjoyed his interest and assistance
both in and outside of Florence, where a great deal of building was
carried on. Yet he built nothing more himself than a convent and a
villa. Of the convent not a trace is left, and the façades of the
cathedral and of the church of the Santo Spirito—in which he was so
much interested—still await completion, as does that of San Lorenzo,
though Pope Leo X. made preparations for the immediate execution of the
works. The finest building of Lorenzo’s time in Florence was erected,
not for him but for a family which, although connected with his, was
destined to maintain a long struggle with it—namely, the Strozzi.
Considering how intimate Lorenzo was with the brothers Da Majano, it
seems strange that he employed them so little. There is no authentic
record of Giuliano having been employed in Florence except as a worker
in wood. He was engaged on the choir-stalls in Sta. Maria del Fiore in
1471 and the following years, and in the audience-chamber of the palace
of the Signoria (finished ten years later), where his younger brother
Benedetto executed the marble doors, and where he was associated with
Francesco di Giovanni, called Francione, master of Baccio Pontelli,
who did a great deal of work at Rome and Urbino.[167] Giuliano’s works
in Rome, where, according to Vasari, he built—under Paul III.—the
palace of San Marco and a galleried court, now no longer in existence,
are buried in impenetrable obscurity. It is certain that he was
there in the time of Sixtus IV., and also that he began the stalls
in the choir of Perugia Cathedral, which were finished in 1491 by
Domenico del Tasso, one of the Florentine family of wood-workers and
architects.[168] It is needless to repeat how the calling and labours
of architect and wood-worker (_magistri lignaminum_, _legnaiuoli_)
merged one into the other, even in the next century, like those of
sculptor and goldsmith. In his latter years Giuliano was more abroad
than at home. In 1478 he was at Recanati, in the States of the Church,
building a palace for Antonio Giacomo Venier, Cardinal of Cuença,
who appealed to Lorenzo that he might urge the dilatory artist to go
on with his work:[169] ‘As the said Master Giuliano is a most devoted
servant of your Magnificence and eulogist of your excellent qualities,
and apparently cannot be moved unless stirred up by you, we beg you
to address him on the subject, and to see that he goes to Recanati at
the appointed time to finish what he has begun.’ In the spring of 1481
Giuliano was passing through Urbino, where the palace of Federigo of
Montefeltro made such an impression on him that he induced Lorenzo
to ask the duke for a drawing of it. This the duke had executed by
Baccio Pontelli, who continued the beautiful work of Luciano Lauranna.
‘My lord the duke,’ wrote Pontelli to Lorenzo,[170] ‘answered very
graciously that I was to make the drawing, but that he would prefer
sending your Magnificence the house itself, that you might rule in
it as in your own.’ It was doubtless Lorenzo’s doing that Giuliano
was summoned to Naples. This must, therefore, have happened after
the reconciliation in 1480. Notwithstanding the many commissions he
received there—for King Ferrante and his eldest son were both much
given to building, and after the expulsion of the Turks from Otranto
the kingdom enjoyed a few years’ peace—there is no need to suppose
that he took up his abode there permanently, for artists were generally
given to wandering. The famous triumphal arch of King Alfonso in
Castelnuovo—not finished till the sixteenth century—is probably in
no part his work; but certainly to him may be attributed the Porta
Capuana, excellent in point of architecture but disfigured by modern
additions.[171] Giuliano died at Naples in the autumn of 1490, and
Lorenzo’s expressions concerning his loss, in a letter to the Duke of
Calabria,[172] show how highly he esteemed him: ‘Your Excellency’s
letter informs me of the death of Giuliano da Majano, which causes me
sincere regret, both on account of our intimacy and because he was
engaged in your Excellency’s service, and his death will leave many
a work unfinished. As you contemplate continuing these, I hear that
you want me to procure you another architect, on which subject Paol’
Antonio Soderini writes to me in detail. It will give me pleasure if
your Excellency will command my services and be satisfied with my
arrangements, as was the case with Giuliano; at whose death I have at
least the satisfaction that you have been pleased with the work of one
who entered your service on my recommendation.’
Giuliano’s brother Benedetto, ten years his junior, was not employed
as an architect by Lorenzo. His share—as wood-carver—in the works
at the palace of the Signoria has been already referred to. But his
masterpiece was a work of architecture executed in the last years
of Lorenzo’s life, and—if we except the Pitti Palace, which stands
alone—the most perfect specimen of palatial architecture that Florence
has to show. The story of the building begun by Filippo Strozzi the
elder in 1489 makes a curious study of manners and an interesting
chapter in the history of art. When Cosimo de’ Medici contemplated
building himself a house, he was afraid of rousing disapproval by too
much splendour; more than half a century later another rich citizen
felt the same anxiety. He saw the commonwealth and city in altered
circumstances, and had before his eyes the warning example of Luca
Pitti. Lorenzo Strozzi, who wrote a life of his father, tells of this
grand undertaking:[173] ‘When Filippo had made due provision for his
descendants—as he thought more of fame than of money, was fond of
building, and intelligent in the art—he decided, as the surest way
of handing down his name to posterity, to erect such a building as
should make a name for him and his throughout Italy and beyond it. He
found, however, one great hindrance in the way. The man who was at the
head of the Government might take it into his head that the reputation
of another would put his own into the shade, and Filippo was in great
dread of exciting envy. So he had it rumoured about the city that his
children were so numerous and his house so small that, now they were
grown up, he must provide an abode for them, which could be better
done in his lifetime than after his death. Then he began, with all
sorts of circumlocutions, to talk—first to master-masons and then
to architects—on the necessity of building a new house. At times he
spoke as though he would begin soon; then made a show of being still
undecided and unwilling to spend in a hurry the fruits of many years’
labour. Thus artfully did he conceal the object he had in view in order
to attain it better. He used to repeat, a comfortable citizen-like
house was enough for him, good but not grand. Now the masons and
architects, after their kind, kept enlarging upon his plans, which was
just what pleased Filippo, though he pretended to the contrary, and
declared that they drove him to what he was neither willing nor able to
do.
Now it happened that he who then governed the destinies of the city
desired to see it embellished in every way; his opinion being that if
he was responsible for good and evil, so would beauty or ugliness be
laid to his account. Deeming that so large and costly an undertaking
would be difficult to estimate and superintend, and might (as often
happens with merchants) either destroy the originator’s credit or ruin
him altogether, he began to meddle in the matter, and asked to see the
plans. When he had examined them, he suggested divers embellishments,
and advised the use of _opus rusticum_. But the more Filippo was
encouraged the more he pretended to draw back. He declared he would on
no account have _opus rusticum_, as it was unsuitable to the condition
of a citizen, and would entail heavy expense. He was building, he said,
with a view to his own comfort, and not for pomp; and thought of making
shops on the ground floor, to produce an income for his sons. To this
everybody objected, pointing out how ugly and inconvenient it would
be. Still Filippo continued his remonstrances, and said complainingly
to his friends that he had begun an undertaking which he only hoped
he might bring to a successful end; he wished he had never spoken of
it, rather than have got into such a labyrinth. The more he pretended
to be afraid of the cost, to conceal the greatness of his intentions
and the extent of his wealth, the more he was urged and encouraged to
the building. Thus by adroitness and caution, he managed what, had he
conducted himself otherwise, would either have been forbidden or have
brought him under no little suspicion.
The first thing to be done was to gain space for the _casa grande_.
And space was limited. The Strozzi palace lies at the west end of the
old town, in a quarter now, perhaps, the liveliest in the city, and
doubtless animated even at that time, being close to the old market and
to the square named after the church of Sta. Trinità, whence may be
seen the bridge of the same name. Several distinguished families dwelt,
and some still dwell, in the immediate neighbourhood: the Buondelmonti,
Altoviti, Gianfigliazzi, Bartolini, Alamanni, Viviani, Tornabuoni,
Vacchietti, Antinori, and others. According to the original plan, the
building was to stand free, with a square and garden on the south,
extending as far as the Via Portarossa, where stand the houses of the
Davanzati and Torrigiani. But the plan was imperfectly executed. A
tolerably large square is on the eastern side, but on the south only a
narrow space, now bridged over, divides the palace from neighbouring
buildings; on the west the street (Via de’ Legnaiuoli) is of moderate
width, and on the north it is only since the front of the Tornabuoni
house was rebuilt a few years ago (see p. 125), that sufficient space
and light has been gained to get a view of the noble edifice, which on
this side was formerly quite hidden.
On August (July?) 16, 1489, Filippo Strozzi laid his foundation-stone.
His memoirs contain a description of the important proceeding,
characteristic of the habits of the time. ‘At the moment when the sun
came up over the mountains, I laid the first stone of the foundations,
in the name of God, as a good beginning for myself, my successors, and
all who may have a share in the building. I caused a mass of the Holy
Ghost to be sung at the same hour by the brethren of San Marco, another
by the nuns of Murate, a third in my church, Sta. Maria di Lecceto,
and a fourth by the monks there (who are under some obligation to me),
with a prayer for a blessed beginning to the work. The time for laying
the foundation-stone was fixed by a horoscope by Messer Benedetto
Biliotti, Maestro Niccolò, and Messer Antonio Benevieni, doctors; also
Bishop Pagagnotti and Messer Marsilio (Ficino), who all confirmed
it as lucky. I sent twenty lire to the brethren of San Marco, to be
distributed in alms as they thought good, and as many to Murate. I
spent ten lire in smaller alms. To Benedetto Biliotti I gave four ells
of black damask, costing twenty lire. I had to breakfast Maestro Jacopo
the master-mason, Maestro Andrea the founder, Filippo Buondelmonti,
Marcuccio Strozzi, Pietro Parenti, Simone Ridolfi, Donato Bonsi, Ser
Agnolo, Lorenzo Fiorini, and other of my friends.’
The ground floor was not yet half built when Filippo died, on May 14,
1491. After him, the house was the abode of fortune and greatness; but
how many storms burst over it in the days of his youngest son and of
his grandchildren!
The Strozzi Palace is a great square building, nearly a hundred feet
high, and a hundred and twenty feet wide; it displays rustic work
in its greatest perfection, and, notwithstanding the severity and
simplicity of its construction, is more attractive than any other
building of this style. The stories, of nearly equal elevation, are
divided by strongly defined string-courses, and are composed of great
blocks of ashlar (now blackened by nearly four centuries) of unequal
length, but in even horizontal lines—_opus rusticum_ throughout,
but more evenly hewn than in the houses of the Medici and the Pitti,
and other buildings. The ground floor has a grand arched doorway on
each of the three façades, and small square windows at a considerable
height above the stone parapet that runs round the whole. The two upper
stories have arched windows divided by small marble columns, with the
crescent of the family arms in the panels, and surmounted, like the
doors, with upright blocks of ashlar. The handsome but half-finished
cornice and the courtyard, both by Simone del Pollaiuolo called
Cronaca, and the famous iron lanterns, belong to a period later than
that now under consideration. The founder had thought he could complete
the building out of his income, without touching his capital; but,
owing to untoward circumstances and dissensions among the sons, the
work was not brought to its present state of relative completeness till
forty-two years after Filippo’s death.
In Lorenzo’s letter to the Duke of Calabria, after the death of
Giuliano da Majano, he states that he was endeavouring to replace
the lost one. ‘On looking about among the master-builders here, I
find no one who, in my opinion, can be compared with Giuliano. I
have, therefore, written to Mantua, to a Florentine there, whose
capabilities and practice in building ought, I think, to qualify him
for the work to be done. If this should come to nothing, and we can
make no better choice, we shall be obliged to choose the least bad
one possible (_il manco reo che sarà possibile_) in this place.’[174]
These words sound strange from Lorenzo, when Benedetto da Majano
and Giuliano da Sangallo were both in Florence. The most probable
explanation is that present engagements prevented them from leaving
the city, and therefore, Lorenzo’s choice fell on Luca Fancelli, who
holds a subordinate place in the history of art. Benedetto must have
been already known at Naples, and Lorenzo himself had, in 1488, sent
to King Ferrante the plan of a palace, by Sangallo,[175] who, in
consequence, went to Naples. Giuliano, son of Francesco Giamberti,
had been from his childhood known to the Medici family, to whom in
Cosimo’s and Piero’s days his father furnished woodwork. He himself,
instructed by his father and Francione, acquired great skill in this
art, did some work in Sta. Maria del Fiore, in the palace of the
Signoria, and at Pisa, and even in later years continued to style
himself _Legnaiuolo_. The Giamberti family must have been intimately
connected with the Medici, for after the death of Giuliano de’ Medici
his little son Giulio was taken care of in their house in Borgo Pinti,
where the Panciatichi-Ximenes palace now stands. Giuliano Giamberti
afterwards followed two branches of architecture, fortification and
palace-building, with great success. In his latter years he was engaged
on Sta. Maria del Fiore and St. Peter’s at Rome.
In the autumn of 1472, Giuliano, then twenty-nine, was at Rome, working
for Sixtus IV.[176] What he actually did there, where so many Tuscans
were employed, is unknown. That he made long and frequent sojourns
there is proved by his excellent studies of antique buildings, that
have been so useful to later investigators, and by his intimate
connection with Cardinal Giuliano della Rovere. The war of 1478 called
him home, where he served as an engineer in defending various places.
The restoration of peace enabled him to resume his works at Rome; one
of which, the castle of Ostia, begun probably for the above-named
cardinal, and finished in 1486, marks an important step in military
architecture, while its picturesque beauty indicates the eye of a true
artist.[177] Long before this castle was finished, Giuliano must have
begun at home the building which raised him highest in the esteem of
Lorenzo de’ Medici—the villa at Poggio a Cajano. Francione and others
had submitted plans; Lorenzo chose that of Giuliano. The situation is
favourable, on a hill of no great elevation, but with a clear view on
three sides. The house is reached by a broad flight of steps, and is of
the regular Tuscan type, which continued to later times. The portico
before the hall, with its gable decorated with a frieze in Terra della
Robbia, displays a tendency to the antique. The great hall has a
barrel-vault, the dimensions of which gave rise to a doubt as to the
possibility of its execution.
At the time when Giuliano is supposed to have gone to Naples, a great
work begun by him in his native city can scarcely have been ready
for habitation. This was the convent of the Augustinian Friars in
front of the Porta San Gallo, the immediate occasion of which was
Lorenzo’s liking for the preacher Fra Mariano of Genazzano. The work
was important enough to give the artist a new name, under which the
whole family became famous. According to Vasari, it was Lorenzo who
first used the appellation, and on Giuliano’s playful remark that he
was taking a backward step in abandoning his old family name, Lorenzo
replied that it was better to make a name by one’s own merits than to
inherit one.[178] Only a part of the huge building was completed, and
this was totally destroyed in 1529. To Lorenzo is attributed the idea
of rebuilding the castle on the Poggio Imperiale near Pozzibonzi,
the importance of which had been but too clearly shown in the wars of
1478-79, and he obtained the commission for Giuliano. The work began
in 1488, was afterwards directed by Giuliano’s younger brother, but
finally sank into as complete ruin as the works of Henry of Luxemburg
on the same spot. Nothing is known of what Sangallo did in Milan,
whither he is believed to have gone on Lorenzo’s recommendation, with
the plan of a palace, for Lodovico il Moro, and where he met Leonardo
da Vinci.
His great patron was no longer living when he began, for Giuliano
Gondi, on the Piazza San Firenze, the palace which, though unfinished,
still produces a pleasing effect with its fine proportions, its
artistic arrangement of rustic work on the first and second stories,
and its elegant arcade.[179] The court of the convent of Sta. Maria
Maddalena de’ Pazzi (Cestello), in the Via de’ Pinti, is one of
Giuliano’s earlier works, not wanting in character or grace. Nothing
is known of independent works by Antonio, Giuliano’s brother and
frequent assistant, during Lorenzo’s lifetime. His time of activity in
Tuscany and Rome, both as a military builder, and as an architect of
churches and palaces, began under Alexander VI. and lasted till only
a degenerate scion was left of the race of Lorenzo the Magnificent.
The Aretine art-historian rightly says that these two brothers left
architecture as an inheritance to their family. It was they who mainly
contributed to keep up in Tuscany a tradition which was never quite
false to the Quattrocento, even when the Renaissance had been overgrown
with a certain grotesqueness.
Lorenzo was concerned in two great works, neither of which came to
perfection. The building and decoration of the façade of Sta. Maria del
Fiore went on till about the middle of the fifteenth century. Donatello
and his school contributed to it the marble facings and statues which
were carried up to the rose-windows over the side doors.[180] The
completion of the work was all the more to be desired as the gilt
cross had gleamed above the lantern of the dome since May 30, 1472. On
February 12, 1490, the following decree was issued by the consuls of
the wool-merchants’ guild:[181] ‘Forasmuch as of late several of the
chief citizens have repeatedly called to mind what a great dishonour it
is to this city that the front of the cathedral church should remain
in its present condition, to wit, unfinished, and also that the parts
already executed in nowise correspond to the rules of architecture,
and are bad in many ways, and that it would be highly praiseworthy to
come to some conclusion on the matter, the said consuls have resolved
and given authority to the present and future master-builders of the
church to regulate expenditure and arrange everything that shall seem
to them good and profitable for the said purpose now and hereafter.’
This decree shows that in the minds of those concerned the fate of the
existing portions of the façade was as much decided as ninety-six years
later, when they were destroyed after very brief deliberation.
On January 5, 1491, a commission met, under the presidency of the
two master-builders Maso degli Albizzi and Tommaso Minerbetti, to
pass judgment on the numerous models and designs (_modelli et designi
undique habiti et collecti_). Many who were not personally present had
sent in plans: Benedetto da Majano, Francesco di Giorgio, Filippino
Lippi, Andrea Verrocchio, Antonio Pollaiuolo. There were two designs
by Giuliano da Majano, then lately dead. No less than twenty-nine
artists had come forward, among whom were Cronaca, Benedetto da
Majano, Francione, Lorenzo di Credi, Domenico Ghirlandajo, Pietro
Perugino, Andrea Contucci of Montesansovino, Andrea della Robbia,
Sandro Botticelli, Alesso Baldovinetti, and others who, except in
this case, are known only as goldsmiths or painters. Lorenzo de’
Medici himself had sent in a design. The meeting was held in the
portico and the loggia of the office of works (_Opera_), the arches
of which—now blocked up and containing a fine marble bust of the
first grand duke on the façade—may be seen behind the choir of the
cathedral. The models and designs having been examined, were reported
on by Tommaso Minerbetti, whereupon Carlo Benci—a canon and one
of the competitors—being asked his opinion, rose and said that he
held it advisable to take the opinion of Lorenzo de’ Medici, a man
so versed in architecture that if they followed him they would be
the least likely to fall into error. Bartolommeo Scala recommended
that a decision should be adjourned to give opportunity for further
deliberation. Others took the same view, but thought it better to wait
no longer than was absolutely needful. Then Lorenzo de’ Medici rose,
and said: ‘All who had sent in models or designs were deserving of
praise; but as the work in question was one of lasting importance, long
and grave deliberation was needful, and it was advisable to postpone a
decision in order to consider the matter further.’ Pietro Machiavelli
and Antonio Manetti, architects, supported him, the rest were silent.
Sixteen months later he who had started the whole affair lay in his
grave. Then came times when Florence had other things to think of than
the façade of her cathedral. For the latter, however, it was well that
the rebuilding was not begun at that time, for Giuliano da Majano and
Giuliano da San Gallo would have been just as incapable of producing
work corresponding with the main character of the building, as were
Buontalenti or Dosio under the Grand Duke Ferdinand I., or Baccio del
Bianco—a decorative painter rather than an architect—of whose façade
the foundation-stone was actually laid in 1636. The old unfinished
façade might not correspond with the mighty pile that had developed
under the hands of so many architects, but the new one would have
disfigured it for ever.[182]
The church of the Santo Spirito, too, remained unfinished. Great damage
had been done by a fire on March 22, 1471, and three months after
contributions were voted out of the taxes for the restoration,[183] as
had been done before. In consideration of this the municipality made
it a condition that the escutcheon of the lilies and the cross should
be placed beside those of the guilds. There was some difference about
the doors, as appears from a decree of the master-builders in 1486,
and from a letter of Giuliano da Sangallo to Lorenzo,[184] which also
shows the want of agreement between the former and Giuliano da Majano.
Six architects were to deliberate on the matter, and Majano seems to
have carried the day, to the disgust of Sangallo, who expresses a hope
that Lorenzo on his return will not allow such a fine building to be
spoiled. Further information is wanting. It is to be regretted that the
exterior was not finished then, while the traditions of Brunelleschi’s
time were still in a great measure alive. On the other hand, a great
deal was done in the interior of the choir of Sta. Maria del Fiore. In
the palace of the Signoria also much work was accomplished in the first
and second stories—especially the latter—in the audience chamber,
and neighbouring apartments. It cannot be doubted that Lorenzo had a
share in all this. The Sala dell’Orologia in the palace took its name
from the curious clock made by Lorenzo della Volpaia for the Medici
house, and afterwards placed in this hall, whence it has strayed to the
Museum of Natural History. It is a handsome piece of work, after the
pattern of those made in the fourteenth century by the Paduan Giovanni
Dondi (degli Orologi), showing the courses of the planets, the signs
of the zodiacal and celestial phenomena, and it brought great fame to
its maker, who was appointed clockmaker to the city in 1500.[185]
Volpaia had a rival in one Dionisio da Viterbo, who, in June, 1477, was
recommended by the rich Sienese banker Ambrogio Spannocchi to Lorenzo
de’ Medici, to whom he wished to show an ornamental clock with numerous
figures that moved at the same time.[186]
The great number of architects in Lorenzo’s latter years shows how
actively building was carried on. The works executed at that time by
Simone del Pollaiuolo Cronaca cannot be chronologically arranged.
But when it is considered that at Lorenzo’s death this talented
man was thirty-five years old, and was soon after fully engaged on
public works, it is easy to see that he must long have been in active
occupation.[187] The Servite convent of the Annunziata, the interior of
which was his work, has been entirely altered. On the foremost slope
of the hill of San Miniato he built the Franciscan church, for which a
rich citizen—Castello Quaratesi—had left to the guild of Calimala a
large sum in 1449.[188] This man had intended to decorate Sta. Croce
with a suitable façade, but the scheme came to nothing because he was
refused permission to place his coat of arms on the building. The
church of San Francesco recalls the abbey of Fiesole. Tradition relates
that Michel Angelo admired the simple grace of this church (_La bella
villanella_), in whose immediate neighbourhood he spent some time
when in difficulties. The sacristy of Sto. Spirito, a very elegant
octagon, was not finished till later; Cronaca’s cupola fell in when
the scaffolding was taken away.[189] A great deal of building went on
in the immediate neighbourhood of the city. The church of Montoliveto,
which, from its cypress-crowned hill on the left bank of the river,
overlooks city and country, was finished in 1472. Older conventual
buildings were enlarged and churches beautified. This was the case
above all with the before-mentioned Dominican nunnery of Annalena in
the quarter of Oltrarno, and the monastery of the Jesuates at San
Giusto, whose church contained numerous works of art. The building of
the façade of Sta. Croce was contemplated in 1476, as is proved by a
decree of the municipality, which assigned for the purpose a sum to be
collected from backward taxpayers. It was reserved for our own times
to witness the execution of the project, after a sketch said to be by
Cronaca. The court in front of the Servites’ church, and the colonnade
on the square in front of the church, opposite the Foundling Hospital
and imitating its portico, are both attributed to Antonio da Sangallo,
and, if not begun in Lorenzo’s lifetime, must at all events have been
built soon after his death.
Lorenzo had obtained from Innocent VIII. leave to use the convent
gardens—where they were larger than necessary—for the construction
of new streets and squares, and the widening of old ones. Space there
was in plenty, for after all the building in the sixteenth century
the great number of convents was further increased in the days of the
later Medici by many new ones on a large scale. One of the new streets
of that time—behind the Servites’ church—bears the name of Via
Laura, after Lorenzo. Quieter times and increase of riches naturally
strengthened the taste for building, and fine houses with their
extensive courts and gardens called for adornment with antiquities
and works of art. The palace, the gardens, the villas of the Medici
were the richest; but they were not without rivals. The Strozzi,
Acciaiuoli, Soderini, Capponi, Tornabuoni, Sassetti, Benci, Ricci,
Valori, Alessandri, Pucci, Rucellai, Pandolfini, and many others
ordered works of painting and sculpture for their homes and villas
as well as for their chapels in the city churches. The house of the
Martelli, the garden of the Pazzi, the villa of the Valori at Majano,
and many others, were full of antique statues. In the palace of Niccolò
da Uzzano might be seen the antique porphyry lion which Lorenzo greatly
admired,[190] and which still adorns the staircase of the house.
Artists, too, had many fine things. In the house of the Ghiberti, for
example, was a precious sculptured marble vase which the famous artist
Lorenzo Ghiberti was said to have received from Greece.