observed, each several epoch ought to be deduced from one or more
masters of a school, who may have given a new aspect to the art, it will
be proper, in this instance, to vary my system. The epoch here nearest
to us will be found to take its rise at a period when the Venetian
artists, having almost wholly abandoned their national models, attached
themselves some to one, and some to another foreign method, or formed
out of them one of their own. Such were the times of which Signor
Zanetti, in his work, observes, "there appeared in Venice as many
different manners, as there were artists to practise them." This would
appear to have been the state of the art towards the end of the 17th
century. Those artists who followed, approaching still nearer to modern
times, although various in point of style, resembled each other in a
study of ideal beauty, and all agreed in copying from the modern Roman,
or Bolognese Schools, with the addition, however, of their own defects.
Still the old masters were not, on this account, underrated; but were
rather spoken of as the ancients who flourished at a golden period,
whose customs are to be admired, indeed, but not imitated. Fashion, as
it sometimes happens also in sciences, had usurped the seat of reason;
while the artists who followed in her train alleged in excuse, that the
age was fond of such novelties, and that it was incumbent upon them to
second its inclination, in justice to their own fortunes. Amidst these
changes, the Venetian School, which had always preserved its ascendency
in point of colouring, then began to alter, losing the truth of nature,
as it became more brilliant. Thus few artists flourished at that period
who might not, more or less, be termed mannerists in colouring. But in
other respects the school appears to have improved, and particularly in
treating its history pieces more appropriately, without the introduction
of portraits, dresses, and other accessaries, ill adapted to them; a
defect to which it had been more attached, and had more obstinately
adhered, than any other of the schools. Yet it cannot be denied, that
during this period of the decline of art throughout Italy, the Venetian
School shone peculiarly conspicuous in the number of superior inventors
it produced. For whilst Lower Italy aimed at nothing beyond the striking
contrasts of the followers of Cortona; whilst in so many schools of
Upper Italy, the imitators of the imitators of the Caracci were esteemed
the great models; in Venice, and the adjacent state, various styles were
seen to spring up, which, though not perfect, were at least original,
and valuable in their way; if, indeed, the whole of Europe has not been
deceived in its estimation of them, purchasing the pictures of the
Ricci, of Tiepolo, of Canaletto, of Rotari, and of numerous other
artists of the same time, at immense sums. But we must take a more
particular survey of them.
The Cavalier Andrea Celesti, who died in the early part of the century,
was disciple to Ponzoni, but without becoming his imitator. As an
artist, he is very pleasing, fertile in noble images, flowing in his
outlines, with delightful scenery, with airs, with features, and with
draperies all graceful, and often resembling Paul Veronese. His style of
colouring, also, was not remote from nature, equally lucid, pleasing,
and soft. Owing to his fondness for the chiaroscuro, one of the chief
attractions of his style, or rather, perhaps, to the imperfection of his
grounds, there are few of his productions that continue to preserve
their original beauty. Occasionally he seems to belong to the sect of
Tenebrosi, and his middle tints have in some instances disappeared,
destroying the harmony that in some of his best-conducted pictures was
admirable. His distinguishing character was a happy audacity of hand, in
which he is excelled by very few. He painted both history, and
altarpieces for churches, a specimen of which is seen in his _Probatica_
at the Ascension. In the public palace there is one of his histories
from the Old Testament, abounding with all that masterly talent for
which he was so remarkable, creating at once admiration and surprise. He
produced pieces for private ornament, from profane history, with
conversations, games, and rencounters, like Caravaggio's. Alberto
Calvetti, an inferior artist, educated in his school, resembles him as
little in talent, as, for the most part, in his style.
Antonio Zanchi da Este was an artist, also, better known in Venice for
the number, than for the excellence of his works. His style is
altogether distinct from that of the foregoing, and it is uncertain
whether he derived it from his master Ruschi, or from some other of the
sect of naturalists whom we have before described. Such, at least,
appears the cast of his genius, common in its forms, sombre in its
colours; but nevertheless exciting surprise, by a certain fulness and
felicity of hand, by its picturesque spirit, by its effect of
chiaroscuro, and by a grand general result, which imposes upon us by its
power. If we examine more particularly into his manner, we shall not
unfrequently discover an incorrectness of design, along with that kind
of indecision, and indistinctness of outline, which is mostly the
resource of weak, or, at least, of very hasty artists. He chiefly
attached himself to Tintoretto, some traces of whom may be found in his
style. In the college of S. Rocco, where that great master rendered his
name immortal, we behold one of the best specimens of Zanchi. The
subject, admirably fitted to his manner, contributed greatly to his
success. He has there given a bold exhibition of the great plague that
afflicted Venice in 1630, a picture filled with a concourse of the sick,
the dying, and the dead, borne to one universal grave. Opposite to this
grand painting there is another from the hand of Pietro Negri, his
pupil, as is supposed, but more probably his rival, which represents the
liberation of the city from that fatal scourge; and in it, too, we
perceive the peculiar ease, and the manner of Zanchi, somewhat improved,
however, and ennobled in its forms. Francesco Trevisani, another of his
pupils, took up his residence at Rome, in the list of whose professors
he has already been commended (tom. ii. p. 296). Gio. Bonagrazia,
however, remained in the Venetian state; and acquired some reputation in
his native town and province of Trevigi, more particularly for his
paintings at San Vito.
Antonio Molinari belonged, likewise, to the same school, but almost
wholly renounced the maxims he had acquired in it.[87] His style is by
no means equally sustained; a case that frequently occurs to such as
abandon the methods in which they have been educated, and attempt to
strike into new paths. I have seen some of his pictures at Venice, and
elsewhere, in fine relief, and others quite the contrary; at times, too,
he appears beautiful, but cold. In the vigour of his powers, however,
when he produced the works most decisive of his merits, such as his
History of Oza, at the Corpus Domini, he displays a style no less solid
than pleasing, and which equally satisfies the judgment and the eye.
There is a study both of design and of expression, ample beauty of
forms, richness of drapery, with a taste and harmony of tints not
surpassed by any artist of the times.
We may mention, likewise, as distinguished by their manner, Antonio
Bellucci, and Giovanni Segala, two painters who, like their masters,
became addicted to the use of strong shades. Yet they possessed
sufficient intelligence to derive some advantage even from a wrong
direction of their powers. For the former disposed them in grand masses,
yet delicate, and moreover united to pleasing colouring; while the
latter made use of dark grounds, which he contrasted with very spirited
lights, and with a skill that enlivens while it enchants us. Indeed, the
style of both seemed adapted for great works, and both possessed genius
enough to conduct them well. Segala, however, is preferred by Zanetti to
his contemporary, and his picture of the Conception, executed for the
college of La Carita, is particularly extolled by him, and, in truth, he
there competes with, if he does not surpass, some of the first painters
of the age. We ought to estimate the merit of Bellucci from those
specimens he conducted with most care, and upon the best grounds, such
as his scripture piece in the church of the Spirito Santo. He appears to
most advantage, perhaps, in small figures, many of which he inserted in
the landscapes of the celebrated Tempesta. When at Vienna, he became
court painter to Joseph I. and to Charles VI.; and subsequently to other
German princes, which he chiefly owed to this kind of talent.[88]
To this epoch, also, belongs the name of Gio. Antonio Fumiani, who
acquired from the Bolognese School, in which he was educated, an
excellent taste, both in composition and design. And from the works of
Paul, which he studied with assiduity, he obtained a knowledge of
architectural and other ornaments. Some have considered him deficient in
warmth of tints, and in a just counterpoise of lights and shades, to
which I should add, also in expression; appearing, as he does to me,
cold in all his attitudes, even beyond the custom of this school.
Perhaps his Dispute of Jesus with the Doctors, at the church of La
Carita, is his finest work. Bencovich, having resided at Bologna, will
be enumerated among the followers of Cignani.
Nearly contemporary with Fumiani, though he flourished longer and
painted more, was the Cav. Niccolo Bambini, a pupil of Mazzoni, in
Venice, and afterwards of Maratta, at Rome. There he became accomplished
in design, exact and elegant, and capable of sustaining those noble
conceptions derived from nature, which he developed in very enlarged
works, both of oil and fresco. Fortunate, indeed, had he succeeded as
well in his colouring; in which branch he was so sensible of his own
mediocrity, as to forbid his scholars practising the art from his
pictures. His taste is sometimes wholly Roman, as in his altarpiece at
San Stefano, executed soon after his return from Rome. At other times,
he has a more flowing manner, like that of Liberi, which he imitated for
several years with success, ever afterwards retaining the beauty of his
heads, especially in his women. Again he occasionally soars above
himself, and in such works as he himself conceived and executed, and
which were afterwards re-touched and animated, as it were, by Cassana,
the Genoese, he shines as a great portrait painter, and a very powerful
colourist. In the _Guida_ of Zanetti, we meet with the names of Giovanni
and Stefano Bambini, two of his sons, and most probably his pupils,
though from the same, and from another more extensive work, where he
makes no mention of them, we can gather that they were held in very
small esteem. Girolamo Brusaferro, and Gaetano Zompini were also his
pupils, and ambitious, as well, of imitating Ricci, forming a kind of
mixed style not altogether destitute of originality. The second of these
received honourable commissions from the court of Spain, in which he
displayed a rich fund of imagination, and, in some measure,
distinguished himself by his engravings.
Gregorio Lazzarini was pupil to Rosa, and not only freed himself from
the sombre sect, but rising into great reputation, wholly banished it
from the Venetian School, of which, for accuracy of design, he might be
pronounced to be the Raffaello. Whoever contemplates the pictures of
Lazzarini would, at first, suppose he must have received his education
at Bologna, or rather, perhaps, at Rome. Yet he never left Venice, and
by the strength of his genius alone, acquired the esteem of the most
learned professors in the art, and particularly of Maratta, a very
scrupulous panegyrist of his contemporaries. Thus the Venetian
ambassador at Rome, having occasion to apply to him for a picture,
intended to ornament the hall of the Scrutinio, he declined the
commission, expressing his surprise that it should be deemed requisite
to apply to him at Rome, while they had Lazzarini at Venice. And the
latter artist produced a piece which justified the judgment of Maratta,
representing in the noblest manner the triumphal memory of Morosini,
surnamed by the Venetians, Peloponnesiaco, which adorns the
forementioned hall. He most distinguished himself by his picture of San
Lorenzo Giustiniani, painted for the patriarchal church; perhaps the
best specimen in oil displayed by the Venetian School during this
period, whether for its taste of composition, its elegance of contours,
or the original beauty and variety of its countenances and its
attitudes. It possesses, likewise, force of colouring, in which he was
not always equally successful. In small figures he was extremely
graceful, a specimen of which may be seen in a choir of Santa Caterina,
at Vicenza, where he executed some very beautiful histories, in the most
glowing colours imaginable. The last altarpiece, bearing his own name,
was completed by his excellent pupil, Giuseppe Camerata, who in this, as
well as other pieces produced for churches, pursued the same career as
his master. Another of Lazzarini's pupils, however, Silvestro Manaigo,
persevered in an opposite course, for though of a fine character, he was
too rapid, and too much of a mannerist.
There flourished, likewise, at that period, two artists of Trevisi,
Francesco, included in the list of the Roman School, and Angiolo
Trevisani, who, both by birth and domicile, must be claimed for that of
Venice. Fine in his inventive pieces, as we gather from those at La
Carita, and various other churches in the capital, he was still more
celebrated for his portraits. In exercising this branch, he formed a
style founded upon nature, not, indeed, sublime, but very select, and in
part conformable to the schools then in vogue. His pencil displayed
diligence and research, especially in his management of the chiaroscuro.
Jacopo Amigoni can scarcely be justly estimated in Venice, where, if we
except his picture of the Visitation at the monastery of San Filippo,
there is nothing of his remaining in public in his best manner; that
which he acquired by studying the masterpieces of the Flemish School in
Flanders. It was there that his genius, naturally fertile and animated,
uniting with facility qualities of grandeur and of beauty, and seizing
upon the finest subject for copious histories, also discovered the kind
of colouring he had in vain sought for at Venice. There, too, he
"_achieved the art of attaining, by force of shades, even to pure black,
which colour he employed to produce perfect clearness, without injuring
the beauty of his piece_:" thus we are informed by Signor Zanetti. Had
he succeeded in giving a little more relief to his pictures, and
employed less care in giving brilliance to every part of his
composition, he would have appeared to more advantage; but only in the
eyes of good judges, as the multitude could not well be presented with
any thing more calculated to enchant them than one of his pictures. Nor
was it without reason that his style was so much applauded throughout
England, Germany, and Spain, in which last country he died, when painter
to the court, in 1752. Various productions of his hand are to be met
with, though but rarely, in possession of private families in Italy,
chiefly consisting of little histories, conversations, and similar
pieces, in the manner of the Flemish artists. Of the Flemish, I say, in
respect to the size, not the perfection of the drawing, this artist
being accustomed to alter his tints in some degree, particularly in the
shifting hues, to labour by touching, often leaving his outline
undefined, and to raise the colour so as to produce effect in the
distance. His pieces upon a larger scale are more rare, though I have
seen several exhibiting great truth in the expression of countenance,
and a rich flow of drapery, in possession of the celebrated musician,
Farinello, at Bologna. And in these portraits the musician himself
always appeared, as received at different courts, and in the act of
being applauded and rewarded by the European Sovereigns.
Giambatista Pittoni, though less generally known than the preceding, is
still entitled to a rank among the first artists of his age. The
disciple and nephew of Francesco Pittoni, here mentioned, rather from
his pupil's merit than his own, he subsequently became attached to
foreign schools, and formed a style which displays some novelty in the
warmth of its colouring, and in a certain pictorial amenity and
attraction which prevail throughout the whole. He cannot, indeed, be
said to be very select, but he is in general correct, polished, and
intelligent in his entire composition. He particularly shone in figures,
smaller than the life; and the galleries in the Venetian state are thus
by no means scantily furnished with his histories; while we may observe
of his altarpieces that they seem to increase in beauty in proportion to
the diminution of their size. This we perceive at the Santo in Padua,
where he painted in competition with the best of his contemporaries, the
Martyrdom of San Bartolommeo, which he coloured upon a small canvass. A
very rapid tourist attributes it to the pencil of Tiepolo, whose manner
is altogether different.
Gio. Batista Piazzetta, on the other hand, was an artist of as sombre a
cast as the two preceding were animated and lively. He had acquired a
good knowledge of design, either under his father, a tolerably skilful
statuary in wood, or under some very exact naturalist; and in his early
attempts he painted in a free and open style. Afterwards he embraced an
opposite manner, and employing himself with Spagnolo at Bologna, and
there likewise studying Guercino, he aimed at producing an effect by
strong contrasts of lights and shades, and in this he succeeded. He had
long, as it is supposed, observed the effects of light applied to
statues of wood and models in wax; and by this he was enabled to draw,
with considerable judgment and exact precision, the several parts that
are comprehended in the shadowing, owing to which art his designs were
eagerly sought after, and his works repeatedly engraved with assiduity.
One of these, placed at the Domenicani delle Zattere was engraved by the
celebrated Bartolozzi; another by his school; that is to say, his San
Filippo, painted for the church of that name in Venice. Many were
engraved also by Pitteri, by Pelli, and by Monaco, besides other prints
that were executed in Germany. His method of colouring, however,
diminished in a great measure the chief merit of his pictures. Thus his
shades having increased and altered, his lights sunk, his tints become
yellow, there remains only an inharmonious and unformed mass, which the
venerators of names, indeed, may admire, but can hardly give a reason
why. Where we happen to meet with a few of his pictures in good
preservation, the effect is altogether so novel and original as to make
a strong impression at first sight, more especially where the subject
requires a terrific expression, as that of his beheading of St. John the
Baptist in prison, produced at Padua, a work placed in competition with
those of the first artists in the state, and at that period esteemed the
best of all. Yet if we examine him more narrowly he will not fail to
displease us by that monotonous and mannered colour of lakes and
yellows, and by that rapidity of hand, by some called spirit, though to
others it often appears neglect, desirous of abandoning its labour
before it is complete.
Piazzetta could hardly boast strength enough to deal with pictures
abounding with figures, and having received a commission from a Venetian
noble, to represent the Rape of the Sabines, he spent many years in
conducting it. In his altarpieces and other sacred subjects he produced
a pleasing effect from the spirit of devotion, but never for the dignity
he displayed in them. Duly estimating his own ability, he was more
desirous of painting busts and heads for pictures adapted for private
rooms than any other subjects. In his caricatures he succeeded
admirably, several of which in possession of the Conti Leopardi d'Osimo
would excite the risible muscles of a professed enemy to mirth. At one
period this artist had a great number of followers, a fashion
nevertheless that soon ceased. Francesco Polazzo, a good painter, but a
better restorer of ancient pictures, somewhat softened down the style of
Piazzetta with that of Ricci. Domenico Maggiotto also tempered it in his
Miracle of San Spiridione, and in his other works engraved at Venice and
in Germany. Various artists of this school in the same way gave softness
to his manner by studying other models. Perhaps the one most addicted to
his method was Marinetti, from the name of his native place more
commonly called Chiozzotto.
The last of the Venetian artists who procured for himself a great
reputation in Europe, was Gio. Batista Tiepolo, so frequently commended
by Algarotti. He was honoured likewise with a poetical eulogy by the Ab.
Bettinelli, became celebrated in Italy, in Germany, and in Spain, where
he died painter to the court of Madrid. Pupil to Lazzarini, whose
deliberate and cautious style served to curb his too great warmth and
rapidity, he subsequently studied Piazzetta, animating and enlivening as
it were his manner, as he appears to have done in his picture of the
Shipwreck of San Satiro at San Ambrogio in Milan. He next became an
assiduous imitator of Paul Veronese, whom, though inferior to him in the
airs of his heads, he very nearly approached in his folds and his
colouring. From the engravings also of Albert Durer, that storehouse of
copious composers, he derived no little advantage. Nor did he at any
time abandon the study of nature in observing all the accidents of light
and shade, and the contrasts of colour best adapted to produce effect.
In this branch he succeeded admirably, particularly in his works in
fresco, for which he appears to have been endued by nature with
promptness, rapidity, and facility in great compositions. While others
were accustomed to display the most vivid colours, he only availed
himself in his frescos of what are termed low and dusky colours; and by
harmonizing them with others of a common kind, but more clear and
beautiful, he produced a species of effect in his frescos, a beauty, a
sunlike radiance, unequalled, perhaps, by any other artist. Of this the
grand vault belonging to the Teresiani in Venice presents a fine
specimen. He has there represented the Santa Casa, accompanied by
numerous groups of angels finely foreshortened and varied, surrounded by
a field of light that appears to rise into the firmament. Such an artist
would have been truly great, had he, in works upon this scale, succeeded
in observing equal correctness in every part; in the whole he always
produces an agreeable effect. He appears more correct and careful in his
oil pieces, which we find dispersed throughout the metropolitan city as
well as the state. At San Antonio in Padua we meet with his Martyrdom of
Santa Agatha, a picture alluded to by Algarotti as a very rare example
of fine expression, at once uniting that of terror at approaching fate,
and of joy for the glory of beatitude in view. Many other beauties are
remarked by Rossetti in this picture, which he admits, however deeply
interested in defending it from every imputation cast upon it by Cochin,
is not altogether perfect in point of design.
In the list of his disciples we find the name of Fabio Canale, mentioned
with honour in the work so often cited, from the pen of Zanetti; and to
such of his pictures as he mentions we may add those he produced in
Palazzo Zen at the Frari, and in that of the Priuli at the bridge of the
Miglio. To this artist we might join a few others of this last age,
recorded in the Guide to Venice, the same that was published by Zanetti
in 1733, and some of whom are likewise mentioned in the _Pittura
Veneziana_, where, beginning at p. 470, he gave a catalogue of the names
of such of the members of that estimable academy, as were then alive,
some of whom are still in existence. But whoever is desirous of
cultivating an acquaintance with them and with their works which are in
possession of the public, may consult the above books as well as some of
the more recent Guides of the city, which have continued from time to
time to appear. I ought to add, that the Signor Alessandro Longhi has
presented us with the portraits and the Elogj of the most celebrated of
these moderns, in the year 1762, and this work also may supply what my
brevity or my silence has omitted or compressed.