WE commonly speak of ancient _art_, but of modern _artists_. Straws
indicate which way the wind blows, and superficial habits may indicate
changes of thought and feeling which lie far deeper. Interest has now
become centred in the development of individual varieties rather than
typical forms, whereas, as we have seen, it is the latter character
that distinguishes the art of the ancients. In the great monumental
works of the Asiatic nations of antiquity names of individual artists
are lost, and in the art of Egypt and Assyria and Persia they are of
little consequence, since certain prevailing types and methods were
adhered to; and most of their work, as in their mural sculptures,
while distinct in racial character, might almost have been executed
by the same hand--Egyptian, Assyrian, or Persian, as the case may be.
Tennyson's lines regarding nature might be here applied to art;
"So careful of the type she seems,
So careless of the single life."
With the intellectual activity of Greece and the development of her
power as a state, the archaic and purely typical period in her arts,
while possessing wonderful harmony and unity, led to individual
development of artists, and, assisted no doubt by the increase of
writing and record, famous names are handed down: such as Ictinus,
the architect of the Parthenon, and Phidias, its sculptor, whose name
characterizes the finest period of Greek art.
The ancient myth of Dædalus seems to show that art was always a power
among the ancient Greeks, and Dædalus, who seems to occupy an analogous
position in southern mythology to that of Wayland Smith in the north,
may have represented, or his name and fame covered, whole generations
of artists and cunning craftsmen; following the tendency, still
noticeable, by which great reputations absorb smaller ones, and in the
course of time have attributed to them works not really belonging to
them at all. The name becomes a convenient symbol for a whole period,
school, or group of workmen.
One can understand in primitive times how important the
artist-craftsmen must have been: the fashioner of weapons, the one
learned in the mysteries of smelting metal, of working iron, bronze,
brass and copper, gold and silver, and having the power of making
things of beauty out of these, which became the revered or coveted
treasures of temples and kings' houses.
The old stories of the early Greek painters Apelles and Protogenes
show, too, at once the tendency towards myth-making, and the old love
of talk about art, as well as the old and dearly-clung-to popular
theory that the beauty of painting is measured by its illusive power;
so that the realistic grapes of Apelles, which only deceived the
birds, were supposed to be outdone by the naturalistic curtain of
Protogenes, which took in the critics. This tradition seems still
to linger in the minds of our scene-painters when they present us
with those wonderful (and sometimes fearful) drop curtains of satin,
festooned with tassels and cords of undreamed-of sumptuousness and
mysterious mechanism.
The names and works of Praxiteles and of Myron are well known to
students of antique sculpture, and these are but stars of greater
magnitude among a host of others less distinguished, or less
centralized in universal fame. Yet we only know the Venus of Melos from
the island where she was discovered.
We know that the Greek vase painters frequently signed their
designs, and this has considerably helped the historic criticism and
classification of that interesting and beautiful province of Greek
design, such as has been so ably done in the works of Miss Jane E.
Harrison.
In the Byzantine and early mediæval period we again see a great
development of typical symbolical and profoundly impressive art in
architecture and decoration, but again names and individual artists are
largely lost. We do not know, for instance, who were the designers of
the splendid mosaics at Ravenna.
With the dawn of painting in Italy, however, in the thirteenth century
arose a personal and individualized type of art in which names became
of immense interest. This was no doubt fostered by the rivalry of the
cities, each independent, under its own government; each municipality
proud and anxious to vie in the splendour and beauty of art with its
neighbouring municipality. This led to a wholesome emulation among
artists and very fine results, since there were abundant opportunities
in the great public monuments, council chambers, and churches for the
highest exercise of the architect, the painter, and craftsman's art.
The ancient system of the master craftsman working with his pupils in
his shop or studio prevailed. A man might learn the craft of painting
from the beginning, the grinding of colours, the laying of grounds,
the mixing of tints, drawing out cartoons, enlarging designs for
wall-painting, the painting of ornamental framework, and decorative
detail, and gesso work enrichment, and gilding, miniature painting
and the decoration of books, altar-pieces, signs and shrines; perhaps
embroidery and textile patterns, banners, the furniture of shows and
pageants--all these might be carried on, perhaps under one master. The
term painter was not then specialized to mean either house-painter or
easel-picture painter. An apprentice might thoroughly and practically
learn his trade in the ordinary sense of the word, but it would depend
upon his personal capacity and quality whether he would become a
master, whether his name would be inscribed on the scroll of fame to be
a landmark for future historians of art.
The romantic tales and episodes in the lives of painters which have
come down to us are always interesting, and in Italy, being the centre
of artistic life from the fourteenth to the end of the sixteenth
centuries, we find abundant lore of this sort.
That picturesque legend of Cimabue of Florence, first told by Lorenzo
Ghiberti (who was born in 1378), for instance, finding the youthful
Giotto as a shepherd boy, while riding in the valley of Vespignano,
about fourteen miles from Florence, sketching the image of one of his
flock upon a smooth fragment of slate with a pointed stone, and taking
him to Florence as his pupil.
Cimabue is commonly supposed to have been the first to show a new
departure in the direction of greater freedom and naturalness of
treatment, the first whose work shows much individuality, and emerges
from the somewhat set and prescribed traditions of the Byzantine school
which characterizes the earliest Italian painting of the Christian
period really influenced by the Greek church mosaic design, which may
be considered almost as the swathing clothes of mediæval painting in
Italy.
His altar-piece for the church of Sta. Maria Novella was carried
in procession through Florence to the church--a subject which has
furnished a theme for Lord Leighton's well-known and fine decorative
early work, too seldom seen.
Cimabue's portrait in the white embroidered costume with a hood,
appears in a group with Giotto and other famous contemporaries,
including Petrarch and Laura, in a fresco by Simone Memmi, a
contemporary painter, on the wall of the chapel of the Cappella degli
Spagnoli at Sta. Maria Novella.
But Giotto marks the real point of departure. Coming straight from
outdoor life, from the simple country pursuits of a shepherd boy,
it was significant that he should be the first to introduce a new
spirit into art. Natural simplicity and directness, power of dramatic
narrative painting, dignity and simplicity of style, and decorative
beauty--these were some of the qualities with which Giotto enriched the
field of early Italian art.
[Illustration: _Alinari Photo._]
SIMONE MEMMI. FRESCO CONTAINING PORTRAITS OF CIMABUE, GIOTTO, AND
CONTEMPORARIES. (FLORENCE. CLOISTERS OF S. M. NOVELLA.)]
He became the friend of Dante, who pays him a tribute in the well-known
lines in his poem "Il Purgatorio,"
"---- Cimabue thought
To lord it over painting's field; and now
The cry is Giotto, and his name's eclips'd."
CARY'S _Dante_.
And Giotto has left us an interesting portrait of the poet, on the wall
of the Podesta, or council chamber of Florence, his first recorded
work. Giotto was, in fact, a fellow pupil with Dante under the same
master, Brunetto Latini, since Cimabue gave him all the cultivation
of his time in books as well as art. The fame of Giotto as a painter
spread all over Italy, and his services were required by the Church,
and by rich and great persons.
There is a well-known story, which throws light upon his skill and
certainty of hand, that once, when an emissary from Pope Boniface VIII.
came to him for a specimen of his handiwork to show to his master,
Giotto took a piece of paper and drew a circle in one stroke, without
compasses.
The pope's emissary was disappointed at not getting a prettier picture,
but it proved convincing, and the legend passed into a proverb
which runs: Rounder than the O of Giotto--"Più tondo che l' O di
Giotto."
[Illustration: _Alinari Photo._]
GIOTTO. PORTRAIT OF DANTE. (FLORENCE, PRETORIAN PALACE.)]
[Illustration: _C. Naya Photo._]
GIOTTO. FRESCO (ARENA CHAPEL, PADUA).]
[Illustration: _C. Naya Photo._]
GIOTTO. FRESCO (ARENA CHAPEL, PADUA).]
[Illustration: _Alinari Photo._]
GIOTTO. "CHASTITY" (ASSISI).]
[Illustration: _Alinari Photo._]
GIOTTO. "OBEDIENCE" (ASSISI).]
The frescoes of the Arena Chapel at Padua, representing the history
of Christ and the Virgin in fifty square compartments, remain among
Giotto's most famous works. The frescoes of the vaulted roof of the
lower church at Assisi are also very fine.
"Here," says Mrs. Jameson, in "Early Italian Painters," "over the
tomb of S. Francis, the painter represented the three vows of the
order--Poverty, Chastity, and Obedience: and in the fourth compartment,
the saint enthroned and glorified amidst the host of Heaven.
"The invention of the allegories under which Giotto has represented the
vows of the saint--his marriage with Poverty--Chastity seated in her
rocky fortress--and Obedience with the curb and yoke--is ascribed by
tradition to Dante."
He was architect and sculptor as well as painter, and the design of the
beautiful Campanile of the Duomo at Florence is due to him.
Cimabue and Giotto's contemporary, the sculptor Niccolo Pisano, was
another distinguished artist of the early Italian revival. He is said
to have been inspired by the study of antique sculpture. A certain
sarcophagus (Phædra and Hippolytus) by its life and movement is
supposed to have suggested the character which he sought in his work.
The dramatic vitality which he infused into his figures was certainly
extraordinary, as his famous pulpit at Pisa demonstrates. There was
some danger of losing monumental dignity and repose, but it meant
a return to nature and life after a long period of restraint and
convention which had become dead.
[Illustration: _Alinari Photo._]
NICCOLO PISANO. PULPIT (PISA BAPTISTERY).]
The revival, therefore, was both salutary and necessary, though it is
not unnatural that painters should have profited most by its effects,
and that painting should have become the leading and popular art,
because most immediate and familiar in its appeal and the width of its
sympathy and range.
For vivid dramatic intensity of conception and earnestness of purpose
the work of Orcagna stands out among the early painters of Florence.
Andrea Orcagna was the son of a goldsmith of Florence. The goldsmiths
of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries were in general excellent
designers, and not unfrequently became painters, as in the instances
of Francia, Ghirlandajo, Verrocchio, Andrea del Sarto. It was in his
father's workshop that Andrea Orcagna first learned his art. He was
born before 1310, and he painted at the Campo Santo in 1332. His famous
work was the fresco still to be seen on the wall of the Campo Santo at
Pisa--"The Triumph of Death." It presents us with certain contrasts of
life and death, of pleasure and pain, of pomp and pride and poverty,
the severe life of the holy man, the gay life of the pleasure seeker.
There is a striking group of huntsmen reining in their horses at the
sight of certain grim coffins containing great and pompous personages
in various stages of decay. Grotesque fiends, too, are seen hustling
wicked ones into a fiery pit. Thus does the early painter enforce the
old moral. Thus does he paint the sharp contrasts of life and death,
the short life and the merry one; the careless worldling and the rich
and powerful finally levelled by death; while the higher spiritual
life and the virtues of self-denial and sacrifice are suggested by the
pious and primitive life of the monks.
[Illustration: _Alinari Photo._]
ORCAGNA. "TRIUMPH OF DEATH." FRESCO (CAMPO SANTO, PISA).]
[Illustration: _Alinari Photo._]
BENOZZO GOZZOLI. DETAIL FROM FRESCO (RICCARDI CHAPEL, FLORENCE).]
[Illustration: _Alinari Photo._]
BENOZZO GOZZOLI. "JOURNEY OF THE MAGI." FRESCO (RICCARDI CHAPEL,
FLORENCE).]
Such subjects were favourites all through the Middle Ages, and it may
be remembered that Petrarch about this time wrote his "Triumphs,"
one of which is named "The Triumph of Death."
[Illustration: _Brogi Photo._]
BENOZZO GOZZOLI. DETAIL OF FRESCO (RICCARDI CHAPEL, FLORENCE).]
[Illustration: _Brogi Photo._]
BENOZZO GOZZOLI. DETAIL OF FRESCO (RICCARDI CHAPEL, FLORENCE).]
A gentler spirit is seen in the art of Benozzo Gozzoli (born _circa_
1424), a pupil of Fra Angelico, full of a love for nature, of trees and
flowers and animals, and of decorative beauty, a delight in beautiful
walled cities, in ornate dresses, in fair fresh faces of youths and
maidens. It is the joy of life without the shadow of death, as of the
visions of a serene spirit that joins the hands of the old pagan life
and the new Christian ideals and reconciles them in a world of beauty.
In the frescoes of the Riccardi Chapel at Florence, Benozzo pictures,
with loving faithfulness, the Medici princes riding out to the hunt in
splendid equipment, in a high upland and wooded country such as one
may find around Florence. The subject was "The Adoration of the Magi,"
represented upon the side walls, "The Nativity" being painted over the
altar. The procession of the kings with gifts is seen winding over the
hills of the rich and varied landscape, interspersed with groups like
the princes, in which Lorenzo the Magnificent appears, and portraits of
the painter, his friends, and contemporaries.
The fresh youthful faces are full of the zest and pleasure of life.
The horses curvet and prance in their proud trappings, and the hounds
pursue the flying deer, as if for pleasant pastime.
He gives us those charming groups of kneeling angels also in the same
chapel. Or he tells the story of the building of the tower of Babel, or
of Noah, at Pisa, or of St. Augustine, at San Gimignano, with the same
serenity and delight in subsidiary incident and ornament.
[Illustration: _Brogi Photo._]
SANDRO BOTTICELLI. DETAIL FROM "THE ADORATION OF THE MAGI" (FLORENCE,
UFFIZI GALLERY).]
Another very distinct individuality in painting, reflecting the spirit
of his time halfway between mediæval feeling and the revived paganism
and humanism of the classical Renascence, was Botticelli. He was a
pupil of the painter-monk Fra Filippo Lippi, and worked at Florence
about the middle of the fifteenth century. He was one of the painters
summoned to Rome in 1471 by Pope Sixtus IV. to paint the walls of the
Sistine Chapel. He is spoken of as "our friend Botticelli" in Leonardo
da Vinci's treatise on painting; but until comparatively recently, as
compared with more often sounded names in the trumpet of fame, the
beauty of his work has been singularly neglected.
That now generally admired and most poetic and beautiful work, "An
Allegory of Spring," in the Accademia at Florence, was, about five
and twenty years ago, hung in an obscure position; but of late, and
probably largely owing to English taste and criticism, it is now
brought prominently forward and is constantly copied. The lady who
is supposed to witness the masque stands in the centre in a grove of
orange trees, the ground covered with flowers, among which is seen the
_fleur-de-luce_ of Florence; Zephyrus is clasping the earth, and from
her mouth fall flowers; next to her Flora, or Spring, with a beautiful
robe embroidered with flowers, bears roses in her lap and scatters
them. Then there is a group of the "Three Graces" dancing, while
Hermes, as the herald of Spring, leads the procession. The picture is
supposed to have formed one of a set of four. The second panel called
"Summer," and showing Venus rising in her shell from the sea, with a
draped figure about to throw a robe over her as she reaches the grassy
shore, is in the Uffizi Gallery. There is also a remarkable allegory,
"Calumny," in the same gallery, while our own National Gallery contains
a characteristic Madonna and Child with angels. Botticelli's Madonnas
are always distinguished by a peculiar expression of wistful pathos and
a feeling unlike those of any other painter. There is also a charming
small Nativity with a ring of angels, besides the very splendid vision
of heaven. Botticelli also made illustrations to Dante.
[Illustration: _Alinari Photo._]
BOTTICELLI. "LA PRIMA VERA." AN ALLEGORY OF SPRING (FLORENCE ACADEMY).]
A severer and more distinctly classically inspired genius, yet with
a certain northern hardness, we find in Mantegna, who was born near
Padua, in 1431. He came, it is said, of very poor and obscure parents,
and, like his great predecessor Giotto, Mantegna was employed in
keeping sheep. Little is known of his early life, but he is found
later as one of the pupils of Francesco Squarcione, a painter of
Padua, but more famous for his teaching, his school being at that time
the most renowned in all Italy, his pupils numbering one hundred and
thirty-seven. He was a great student of the antique, and travelled over
Italy and Greece in search of remains of ancient art, obtaining casts
or copies of such sculptures he could not purchase or remove, so that
Mantegna had no doubt exceptional facilities for the study of classical
sculpture, which had so marked an influence upon his design.
[Illustration: _C. Naya Photo._]
MANTEGNA. FROM THE BRONZE MONUMENT IN THE CHURCH OF S. ANDREA AT
MANTUA.]
He seems, too, to have been an indefatigable worker, and drew
with great diligence from the statues, busts, bas-reliefs, and
architectural ornaments he found in the school of Squarcione. "At
the age of seventeen Andrea painted his first great picture for
the church of Santa Sofia in Padua (now lost), and at the age of
nineteen assisted in painting the chapel of St. Christopher in the
Eremitani--representing on the vault the four evangelists." He is
said to have given to these sacred personages the air and attitude of
Greek or Roman philosophers, the type in fact confirmed by Raphael and
afterwards generally adopted by Renascence artists.
A curious change or blending of other elements and a different feeling
in Mantegna's work, softening the somewhat cold and rigid classicism,
seems to have been brought about by his association with the Venetian
painter Jacopo Bellini, the father of the two greater Bellinis
(Giovanni and Gentile), whose daughter Nicolosia he married about this
time (1450). This marriage with the daughter of Squarcione's rival,
as Bellini was considered, and Mantegna's friendship with him, seems
to have offended Squarcione and caused an estrangement, and even the
active enmity of his first master, and eventually led to his quitting
Padua. He painted some frescoes at Verona, and was invited to Mantua by
Ludovico Gonzaga, and finally he entered the service of that prince.
He was invited to Rome by Pope Innocent VIII. to paint a chapel in the
Belvedere of the Vatican, which was actually destroyed in the last
century by Pius VI. to make room for his new museum. This was after
the ruthless way of the popes, prodigal of painted walls, as when the
beautiful early Renascence frescoes of Melozzo da Forli were removed to
make room for Raphael's and Giulio Romano's frescoes in the Stanzi.
There is a story of the discretion of Mantegna, which, with a natural
courtesy, seems to have distinguished him personally. While working
for Pope Innocent VIII. it happened that the payments for the work
were not made with desirable regularity; the pope, visiting the artist
at his work one day, asked him the meaning of a certain female figure
which he had introduced. Andrea replied that he was trying to represent
_Ingratitude_. The pope, understanding him at once, replied: "If you
would place _Ingratitude_ in fitting company, you should place Patience
at her side." Andrea took the hint and said no more. It is satisfactory
to know that in the end the pope not only paid up, but was "munificent"
besides.
Finally, Mantegna returned to Mantua, where he built himself a
magnificent house painted inside and out by his own hand, and in which
he lived in great esteem and honour until his death in 1506. He was
buried in the church of his patron St. Andrew, where his monument in
bronze and several of his pictures are still to be seen.
The famous frieze of "The Triumph of Julius Cæsar"--which is now in
Hampton Court Palace, having been bought by King Charles I. from the
Duke of Mantua--was first designed by Mantegna for the hall of the
palace of San Sebastiano at Mantua, and commenced in 1488, before he
went to Rome, he finishing it after his return in 1492. There are
nine panels or compartments in this frieze: "They are painted in
distemper on twilled linen, which has been stretched on frames, and
originally placed against the wall with arabesque pilasters dividing
the compartments."
Mr. Alfred Marks issued a set of photographs some years ago, but
they are not very clear, There is a good set of Italian woodcuts in
chiaroscuro of the designs, by Andrea Andreani, done while the frieze
was in the palace at Mantua, which have been engraved in various ways
at different times with very various results.
The whole design is extremely rich and sumptuous, and full of the
extraordinary designing power and command of inventive detail so
characteristic of Mantegna.
"In the first compartment we have the opening of the procession:
trumpets, incense burning, standards borne aloft by the victorious
soldiers.
"In the second, the statues of the gods carried off from the temples
of the enemy; battering rams, implements of war, heaps of glittering
armour carried on men's shoulders, or borne aloft in chariots.
"In the third compartment, more splendid trophies of a similar kind;
huge vases filled with gold coin, tripods, etc.
"In the fourth, more such trophies, with the oxen crowned with garlands
for the sacrifice.
"In the fifth are four elephants adorned with rich garlands of fruits
and flowers, bearing on their backs magnificent candelabra, and
attended by beautiful youths.
"In the sixth are figures bearing vases, and others displaying the arms
of the vanquished.
"The seventh shows us the unhappy captives, who, according to the
barbarous Roman custom, were exhibited on these occasions to the
scoffing and exulting populace. There is here a group of female
captives of all ages, among them a dejected bride-like figure, a woman
carrying her infant children, and a mother her little boy, who lifts up
his foot as if he had hurt it.
"In the eighth we have a group of singers and musicians.
[Illustration: ANDREA MANTEGNA. PART OF "THE TRIUMPH OF JULIUS CÆSAR"
(FROM THE WOODCUT BY ANDREA ANDREANI).]
"In the ninth, and last, appears the Conqueror, Julius Cæsar, in a
sumptuous chariot richly adorned with sculptures; he is surrounded
by a crowd of figures, and among them is seen a youth bearing aloft
a standard on which is inscribed the boastful words: 'Veni, vidi,
vici'--'I came, I saw, I conquered.'"[12]
[12] "Early Italian Painters."--MRS. JAMESON.
The care and science of the draughtsmanship is as noticeable as
the richness of the design. The perspective being carefully given
as of figures actually seen above the eye-line, and with all the
sumptuousness and the mixed elements of the design there is a certain
restraint and monumental severity which preserves its dignity.
Rubens, when at Mantua in 1606, was struck by the splendour of the
work, and gave a Rubensesque rendering of one of the compartments,
which is in the National Gallery; but it loses the peculiar dignity,
serenity, and decorative character of Mantegna's work in the somewhat
florid and bumptious style of the late Flemish master; but there is no
doubt that Rubens entertained a real admiration for the work, and was
instrumental in getting Charles I. to purchase it.
Among Mantegna's chief works may be named "La Madonna della Vittoria,"
now in the Louvre, painted as an altar-piece for the church built
by the Marquis of Mantua, to commemorate his victory on the retreat
of Charles VIII. from Italy; the Crucifixion, also in the Louvre,
containing the artist's own portrait in the half-length figure of the
soldier seen in front; the fine allegory of the Vices flying before
Wisdom, Chastity, and Philosophy; and the beautiful Parnassus, which
were painted for Isabella d'Este, and filled panels in a room in her
palace at Mantua, as has recently been discovered. Mr. Armstrong has
had a fine large scale model of one side of this room set up in the
South Kensington Museum, to show the effect of the decorations complete
of Mantegna's allegories (represented by copies). One must not forget
either the wonderful Circumcision, at Florence, or, in our own National
Gallery, the Virgin and Child enthroned.
Besides his paintings there exists a multitude of drawings, designs,
and plates of his own engraving (an art which he took up when he
was sixty years old). These include the fifth, sixth, and seventh
compartments of his own "Triumph of Julius Cæsar."
Perhaps the greatest individual mind of the Italian Renascence was
Leonardo da Vinci, who was so distinguished in so many different
departments of thought and art; and while he summed up and passed
beyond the philosophical and scientific knowledge of his age, and
experimented in nearly all directions, and was at once architect,
chemist, engineer, musician, poet, his fame still rests upon his
achievements in painting, which are distinguished by a peculiar
refinement, extreme finish, and intellectual and poetic quality. He was
born at Vinci, from which he takes his name, near Florence--that Athens
of the Middle Ages--in the lower Val d'Arno, on the borders of the
territory of Pistoia. His father was an advocate, not rich, but able
to give his son the advantage of the best instructors in the science
and art of that period. He studied under Andrea Verrocchio (famous for
his superb bronze equestrian statue of the Coleoni at Venice), himself
uniting the arts of sculptor, chaser in metal, and painter. There is a
story that Leonardo as a youth was set to paint an angel in a picture
of Verrocchio, and so outdid his master that the latter never touched
painting again.
A weird fantastic vein which appears in Leonardo's work, especially
in his love for inventing grotesques, comes out in the tale of the
fig tree. A peasant on his father's estate cut down an old fig tree
and brought a section of the trunk to have something painted upon it
for his cottage. Leonardo determined to do something terrible and
striking--a beautiful horror which should rival the mythical Medusa's
head (which he afterwards painted), and, aided by his natural history
studies and the reptiles he collected, he produced a sort of monster
or chimera which frightened his father into fits and was therefore
considered too good for the peasant's cottage, and afterwards sold for
much. The peasant was persuaded to give up his fig tree and put off
with a wooden shield painted with a device of a hart transfixed with an
arrow.
In a letter to the Duke of Milan, who had invited him to his court,
he thus recites his qualifications as an artist: "I understand the
different modes of sculpture in marble, bronze, and terra-cotta. In
painting, also, I may esteem myself equal to anyone, let him be who he
may."
Of his paintings the widest-known, through engravings, is "The Last
Supper," which was painted on the wall of the refectory of the
Dominican Convent of the Madonna delle Grazie at Milan, occupying two
years, from 1496 to 1498--but the fresco has suffered by time and
restoration, and but little of it is now left. There is a fine study
of the head of Christ.
[Illustration: _Brogi Photo._]
LEONARDO DA VINCI. FRESCO OF "THE LAST SUPPER."]
The picture of the Virgin of the Rocks and the portrait, Madonna Lisa
del Gioconde, in the Louvre, show the quality of his painting--the
characteristic subtlety of expression, mysteriousness, and very
elaborate finish.
After his return to Florence began his rivalry with another gigantic
artistic personality of that time of wonders--Michael Angelo, who was
then, in the early years of the sixteenth century, about twenty-two
years younger. The strong but jealous individuality of both, in spite
of admiration for each other's genius, unfortunately stood in the way
of friendship and co-operation. They remained rivals and competitors.
They contended for the painting of the great Council Hall in the
Palazzo Vecchio at Florence, and both prepared cartoons. Leonardo
chose for his subject the defeat of the Milanese by the Florentine
army in 1440; Michael Angelo a party of Florentine soldiers surprised
while bathing in the Arno. Leonardo's design was chosen, but he spent
so much time in experimenting and in preparing the wall to receive
oil-painting, which he preferred to fresco, that, changes of government
happening, the scheme was finally abandoned, and both cartoons, though
shown for several years, were finally lost, only a copy of Michael
Angelo's remaining, and an engraving from it.
The experimental nature of Leonardo seems to have prevented his
completing many works, while he was full of projects of all kinds, too
many of which were never realized. The fine cartoon of the Virgin and
St. Anna was never painted. This cartoon, or a good copy, is now in the
possession of the Royal Academy.
[Illustration: _Alinari Photo._]
LEONARDO DA VINCI. STUDY FOR THE HEAD OF CHRIST.]
In 1514 Leonardo was, like so many great Italian artists, invited
to Rome by the pope (then Leo X.), but more in his character of
philosopher, mechanic, and alchemist than as a painter. There he met
Raphael, then at the height of his fame, engaged in painting the Stanzi
of the Vatican. But Leonardo was ill-pleased on the whole with his
Roman visit. The pope was said to have become dissatisfied with his
speculative and dilatory habits. His old rival, Michael Angelo, was
there, and finally he left and set out for Pavia, where Francis I. of
France then held his Court. By him Leonardo was received with honour
and favour, and went with him to France as principal Court painter,
only, however, as it proved, to die there on May 2nd, 1516.
In the work of Leonardo's great rival, Michael Angelo, the art of the
Italian Renascence may be said to have reached its culminating point,
and after him decline sets in. It is as if the wonderful structure
of inventive artistic genius had been piled by the life labours of
generations to an ambitious and dangerous height, and at last had given
way under the strain, or perhaps, like the sun-flower, the same force
which raises the splendid rayed head and enables it to outface the sun,
at last forces it earthwards again.
Michael Angelo Buonarotti was born at Settignano, near Florence, in the
year 1474. His ambition, personal pride, and masterfulness of temper
possibly may be traced to his progenitors--a once noble family. It was,
too, against the prejudice of his father that he finally decided his
career, becoming the apprentice of Ghirlandajo, It was in the days
when Lorenzo the Magnificent ruled over Florence, and the young Michael
Angelo became a student in the Academy, founded upon the strength of a
collection of antique marbles, busts, statues, fragments in the palace
and gardens of that prince. This alone would be sufficient to give a
strong classical bias to his style.
[Illustration: _Alinari Photo._]
BUST OF MICHAEL ANGELO BUONAROTTI (S. CROCE, FLORENCE).]
There is a story of Michael Angelo's first attempt in marble when he
was about fifteen--a copy of an antique mask of an old laughing faun:
he treated this with a spirit and vivacity of his own, and Lorenzo de
Medici was struck by its cleverness; but he said, "Thou shouldst have
remembered that old folks do not retain all their teeth: some of them
are always wanting." The young sculptor at once struck one or two out,
giving the mask a more grotesque expression.
On this evidence of cleverness Lorenzo took entire charge of Michael
Angelo. With the marks of princely favour, however, he was destined to
carry another mark, not so agreeable, ever after, owing to, as some
say, the jealousy of Torregiano, a fellow pupil, who in a quarrel
struck him, some accounts say with his fist, some with a mallet, and
so gave him the broken nose which is characteristic of the portraits
of Michael Angelo. Torregiano in consequence suffered banishment from
Florence. In his own account of the affray to Benvenuto Cellini he
declares the provocation came from Michael Angelo. The favour and
protection of Lorenzo did not last long, as in his eighteenth year
Michael Angelo lost his patron by death.
It was Lorenzo's son Piero who set him one wintry day to make a statue
out of the snow--rather a wasteful proceeding for a Michael Angelo,
though, as the late Mr. Walter Pater has said, there is a certain
reminiscence of the feeling of the snow statue in the suggestive and
half-finished figures of the tombs of the Medici.
[Illustration: _A. Braun & Co. Photo._]
MICHAEL ANGELO. "THE CREATION OF MAN" (CEILING, SISTINE CHAPEL).]
With the fall of the Medici family and their exile from Florence,
Michael Angelo, as one of their retainers, had to fly also, and took
refuge in Bologna, where he pursued his work as a sculptor. At the age
of twenty-two he produced the "Pietà" in marble, now in St. Peter's at
Rome.
In 1502 he was again recalled to Florence. In 1504 took place the
competition with Leonardo of the cartoons for the Palazzo Vecchio,
already spoken of.
In 1506 Michael Angelo was called to Rome by Pope Julius II. The pope
employed him to design the sumptuous sculptural monument destined for
his own tomb, for which the famous colossal Moses was executed, and the
slaves or prisoners, but these, like the tomb, never were finished.
But his great work in Rome, the great work of his life, was the
decoration of the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, the walls of which had
been painted by earlier artists of the Florentine school: Signorelli,
Cosimo Rosselli, Perugino, Ghirlandajo, Botticelli. The ceiling
remained unadorned, and now Michael Angelo was called upon to design
his great sacred epic of painting, having to deal with a space 150 feet
in length by 50 feet in breadth, upon the concave surface of a round
vault, without any architectural or structural enrichment or division
save the windows. The theme was the fall and redemption of mankind
according to the Bible history.
[Illustration: MICHAEL ANGELO. CEILING OF THE SISTINE CHAPEL.]
At first it appears that Michael Angelo, as it is said, doubtful of
his own skill in fresco, called in the aid of painters from Florence to
aid him in carrying out his design, but was so disappointed with their
work that he effaced it and dismissed them. He then shut himself up
and proceeded to devote himself to the gigantic work alone, preparing
the colours with his own hands, showing how thorough an individualist
he must have been, contrary to the practice of his own time, which
was to work with pupils and assistants. He began with the end towards
the door, and in two compartments first painted "The Deluge" and
"The Vineyard of Noah"; the figures are on a smaller scale, which
he afterwards abandoned for a larger, bolder treatment. He spent
twenty-two months in painting the ceiling, exclusive of the time spent
in preparing the cartoons. The work was uncovered to the public view on
All Saints' Day, 1512.
The sculpturesque and architectural feeling which, really stronger
in Michael Angelo's work than that of the painter, is very decidedly
manifested both in the general plan of the design and in individual
figures and details. In order to bring so great a scheme into
comprehensive form it was necessary to divide and subdivide the blank
ceiling with painted architectural mouldings and ribs into spaces
and panels. The titanic youthful figures placed between, upon the
ledges and brackets of the framework of the subjects, are very fine
and characteristic in style, and essentially sculptors' designs; each
would work out as a separate statue, though for all that each single
figure, as each figure of every group, bears a certain relation to
the rest and fills a harmonious and necessary place in the scheme. The
colour is subdued and quiet. It has a gray, cool effect in the chapel,
gray blues, pale greens and whites being much used in the draperies,
and the chief decorative effect being gained by the opposition of
brown flesh tones to the broad, light marble-like framework, or the
landscape and sky backgrounds of the subject panels. This great work
was completed by Michael Angelo in his thirty-ninth year.
[Illustration: _Alinari Photo._]
MICHAEL ANGELO. "THE DELPHIC SIBYL" (SISTINE CHAPEL).]
[Illustration: _Alinari Photo._]
MICHAEL ANGELO. TOMB OF GIULIANO DE MEDICI. FLORENCE.]
[Illustration: _Alinari Photo._]
MICHAEL ANGELO. TOMB OF LORENZO DE MEDICI. FLORENCE.]
Another great monumental work in which his architectural and
sculptural genius come out are the tombs of the Medici in the Church
of San Lorenzo. The seated figures of Lorenzo and Giuliano de Medici
are placed in the recesses of a Renascence arcade, in front of which
are marble sarcophagi, and upon the lids recline figures of Night and
Morning, and of Dawn and Twilight respectively. They are very bold
and powerful in design, and extremely characteristic in style and
treatment, having a certain titanic energy and tragic unrest, as well
as pensive mystery, about them, which belong to the strong personality
of their designer.
Poet, as well as painter, architect, and sculptor, we see him moving
amid the political troubles and vicissitudes of his time, a proud and
stormy spirit, a man of extraordinary energy, which impresses itself
upon all his works. The designer of St. Peter's, the painter of the
Sistine, and anon as engineer called to fortify Florence; austere and
abstemious of habit, proud and imperious, and yet tenderly solicitous
for his aged father, and devoted to his old servant Urbino, whom he
tenderly nursed in his last illness.
The great artist lived till eighty-nine, and died in Rome, the scene of
his monumental labours, on February 18th, 1564.
As showing the alertness and activity of his mind in old age, he is
said to have made a drawing of himself as an aged man in a go-cart,
with the motto, _Ancora impara_ (still learning), a true emblem for a
great man who, in spite of his knowledge, feels that in view of the
unknown he knows nothing.
These are a few, a very few, individualities out of the drama of
Italian art, briefly sketched, but distinct as they are, they are not
detached like isolated statues upon pedestals from the characteristics
of their age. They are great because they embody those characteristics;
they are like rich jewels strung upon a golden chain--the golden
chain of inventive tradition which unites them--which, while leaving
each artist free in his own sphere, brings his work into relation and
harmony with that of his contemporaries, his predecessors, and his
successors. Some may prefer to take the jewels separately and admire
them without reference to the chain; but, I think, to fully understand
and appreciate the genius of individual artists one must never leave
out of account their relation to their time, and its influences, the
relation of their particular art to the state of the arts generally;
for among these are the factors which have contributed to make them
what we find them in their works; just as the colour and relief of a
figure or a head depends largely upon its background.