Through the loveliest Arcadian scenery of woods and fields and
rushing waters the road leads downward from Varese to Castiglione.
The Collegiate Church stands on a leafy hill above the town, with fair
prospect over groves and waterfalls and distant mountains. Here in the
choir is a series of frescoes by Masolino da Panicale, the master
of Masaccio, who painted them about the year 1428. 'Masolinus de
Florentia pinxit' decides their authorship. The histories of the
Virgin, S. Stephen and S. Lawrence, are represented: but the injuries
of time and neglect have been so great that it is difficult to judge
them fairly. All we feel for certain is that Masolino had not yet
escaped from the traditional Giottesque mannerism. Only a group of
Jews stoning Stephen, and Lawrence before the tribunal, remind us by
dramatic energy of the Brancacci Chapel.
The Baptistery frescoes, dealing with the legend of S. John, show a
remarkable advance; and they are luckily in better preservation. A
soldier lifting his two-handed sword to strike off the Baptist's head
is a vigorous figure, full of Florentine realism. Also in the Baptism
in Jordan we are reminded of Masaccio by an excellent group of
bathers--one man taking off his hose, another putting them on again,
a third standing naked with his back turned, and a fourth shivering
half-dressed with a look of curious sadness on his face. The nude has
been carefully studied and well realised. The finest composition of
this series is a large panel representing a double action--Salome at
Herod's table begging for the Baptist's head, and then presenting
it to her mother Herodias. The costumes are quattrocento Florentine,
exactly rendered. Salome is a graceful slender creature; the two women
who regard her offering to Herodias with mingled curiosity and horror,
are well conceived. The background consists of a mountain landscape
in Masaccio's simple manner, a rich Renaissance villa, and an open
loggia. The architecture perspective is scientifically accurate, and
a frieze of boys with garlands on the villa is in the best manner of
Florentine sculpture. On the mountain side, diminished in scale, is
a group of elders, burying the body of S. John. These are massed
together and robed in the style of Masaccio, and have his virile
dignity of form and action. Indeed this interesting wall-painting
furnishes an epitome of Florentine art, in its intentions and
achievements, during the first half of the fifteenth century. The
colour is strong and brilliant, and the execution solid.
The margin of the Salome panel has been used for scratching the
Chronicle of Castiglione. I read one date, 1568, several of the
next century, the record of a duel between two gentlemen, and many
inscriptions to this effect, 'Erodiana Regina,' 'Omnia praetereunt,'
&c. A dirty one-eyed fellow keeps the place. In my presence he swept
the frescoes over with a scratchy broom, flaying their upper surface
in profound unconsciousness of mischief. The armour of the executioner
has had its steel colours almost rubbed off by this infernal process.
Damp and cobwebs are far kinder.