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SIX CENTURIES OF PAINTING
[Illustration; VITTORE PISANO
(CALLED PISANELLO)
ST ANTHONY AND ST GEORGE
_National Gallery, London_]
SIX CENTURIES OF
PAINTING
BY
RANDALL DAVIES
[Illustration]
LONDON: T. C. & E. C. JACK
67 LONG ACRE, W.C., AND EDINBURGH
CONTENTS
TUSCAN SCHOOLS-- PAGE
I. GIOVANNI CIMABUE 1
II. GIOTTO DI BONDONE 10
III. THE EARLIER QUATTROCENTISTS 18
IV. THE LATER QUATTROCENTISTS 26
V. LEONARDO DA VINCI 33
VI. MICHELANGELO BUONARROTI 40
VII. RAFFAELLO DI SANTI 47
VENETIAN SCHOOLS--
I. THE VIVARINI AND BELLINI 59
II. TIZIANO VECELLIO 78
III. PAOLO VERONESE AND IL TINTORETTO 99
SPANISH SCHOOL 109
FLEMISH SCHOOL--
I. HUBERT AND JAN VAN EYCK 121
II. PETER PAUL RUBENS 143
III. THE PUPILS OF RUBENS 157
DUTCH SCHOOL--
I. FRANS HALS 165
II. REMBRANDT VAN RYN 171
III. PAINTERS OF _GENRE_ 183
IV. PAINTERS OF ANIMALS 191
V. PAINTERS OF LANDSCAPE 202
GERMAN SCHOOLS 211
FRENCH SCHOOL--
I. THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY 225
II. THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY 235
THE ENGLISH SCHOOL--
I. THE EARLY PORTRAIT PAINTERS 251
II. WILLIAM HOGARTH 258
III. SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS AND THOMAS GAINSBOROUGH 267
IV. THE CLOSE OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY 295
THE NINETEENTH CENTURY--
I. THE SPIRIT OF REVOLT 305
II. EUGENE DELACROIX 309
III. RUSKIN AGAINST THE PHILISTINES 313
IV. MANET AND WHISTLER AGAINST THE WORLD 324
V. THE ROYAL ACADEMY 329
INDEX 335
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
VITTORE PISANO (called PISANELLO)--St Anthony
and St George _Frontispiece_
National Gallery, London
PLATE FACING PAGE
I. FILIPPO LIPPI--The Annunciation 22
National Gallery, London
II. SANDRO BOTTICELLI(?)--The Virgin and Child 26
National Gallery, London
III. SANDRO BOTTICELLI--Portrait of a Young Man 28
National Gallery, London
IV. SANDRO BOTTICELLI--The Nativity 32
National Gallery, London
V. LEONARDO DA VINCI--The Virgin of the Rocks 36
National Gallery, London
VI. PIETRO PERUGINO--Central Portion of Altar-Piece 50
National Gallery, London
VII. RAPHAEL--The Ansidei Madonna 52
National Gallery, London
VIII. RAPHAEL--La Belle Jardiniere 52
Louvre, Paris
IX. RAPHAEL--Portrait of Baldassare Castiglione 56
Louvre, Paris
X. CORREGGIO--Mercury, Cupid, and Venus 58
National Gallery, London
XI. ANDREA MANTEGNA--The Madonna della Vittoria 68
Louvre, Paris
XII. GIOVANNI BELLINI--The Doge Loredano 72
National Gallery, London
XIII. GIORGIONE--Venetian Pastoral 78
Louvre, Paris
XIV. TITIAN--Portrait said to be of Ariosto 84
National Gallery, London
XV. TITIAN--The Holy Family 86
National Gallery, London
XVI. TITIAN--The Entombment 88
Louvre, Paris
XVII. TINTORETTO--St George and the Dragon 102
National Gallery, London
XVIII. VELAZQUEZ--The Infante Philip Prosper 112
Imperial Gallery, Vienna
XIX. VELAZQUEZ--The Rokeby Venus 118
National Gallery, London
XX. MURILLO--A Boy Drinking 120
National Gallery, London
XXI. JAN VAN EYCK--Jan Arnolfini and His Wife 128
National Gallery, London
XXII. JAN VAN EYCK--Portrait of the Painter's Wife 132
Town Gallery, Bruges
XXIII. JAN MABUSE--Portrait of Jean Carondelet 136
Louvre, Paris
XXIV. SIR PETER PAUL RUBENS--Portrait of Helene Fourment,
the Artist's Second Wife, and two of Her Children 150
Louvre, Paris
XXV. FRANS HALS--Portrait of a Lady 168
Louvre, Paris
XXVI. REMBRANDT--Portrait of Hendrickje Stoffels 176
Louvre, Paris
XXVII. REMBRANDT--Portrait of an Old Lady 182
National Gallery, London
XXVIII. TERBORCH--The Concert 186
Louvre, Paris
XXIX. GABRIEL METSU--The Music Lesson 188
National Gallery, London
XXX. PIETER DE HOOCH--Interior of a Dutch House 190
National Gallery, London
XXXI. JAN VERMEER--The Lace Maker 192
Louvre, Paris
XXXII. "THE MASTER OF ST BARTHOLOMEW"--Two Saints 212
National Gallery, London
XXXIII. HANS HOLBEIN--Portrait of Christina, Duchess of
Milan 224
National Gallery, London
XXXIV. ANTOINE WATTEAU--L'Indifferent 236
Louvre, Paris
XXXV. JEAN-BAPTISTE GREUZE--The Broken Pitcher 244
Louvre, Paris
XXXVI. JEAN HONORE FRAGONARD--L'Etude 248
Louvre, Paris
XXXVII. HANS HOLBEIN--Anne of Cleves 256
Louvre, Paris
XXXVIII. WILLIAM HOGARTH--The Shrimp Girl 260
National Gallery, London
XXXIX. SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS--Lady Cockburn and Her Children 274
National Gallery, London
XL. SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS--The Age of Innocence 284
National Gallery, London
XLI. THOMAS GAINSBOROUGH--The Market Cart 290
National Gallery, London
XLII. GEORGE ROMNEY--The Parson's Daughter 298
National Gallery, London
XLIII. GEORGE ROMNEY--Mrs Robinson--"Perdita" 300
Hertford House, London
XLIV. JACQUES LOUIS DAVID--Portrait of Mme. Recamier 306
Louvre, Paris
XLV. EUGENE DELACROIX--Dante and Virgil 310
Louvre, Paris
XLVI. JOHN CONSTABLE--The Hay Wain 312
National Gallery, London
XLVII. J. M. W. TURNER--Crossing the Brook 316
National Gallery of British Art, London
XLVIII. EDOUARD MANET--Olympia 326
Louvre, Paris
XLIX. J. M. WHISTLER--Lillie in Our Alley 328
In the possession of John J. Cowan, Esq.
_INTRODUCTORY_
So far as it concerns pictures painted upon panel or canvas in tempera
or oils, the history of painting begins with Cimabue, who worked in
Florence during the latter half of the thirteenth century. That the art
was practised in much earlier times may readily be admitted, and the
life-like portraits in the vestibule at the National Gallery taken from
Greek tombs of the second or third century are sufficient proofs of it;
but for the origin of painting as we are now generally accustomed to
understand the term we need go no further back than to Cimabue and his
contemporaries, from whose time the art has uninterruptedly developed
throughout Europe until the present day.
Oddly enough it is to the Christian Church, whose early fathers put
their heaviest ban upon all forms of art, that this development is
almost wholly due. The reaction against paganism began to die out when
the Christian religion was more firmly established, and representations
of Christ and the Saints executed in mosaic became more and more to be
regarded as a necessary, or at any rate a regular embellishment of the
numerous churches which were built. For these mosaics panel paintings
began in time to be substituted; but it was long before any of the human
feeling of art was to be found in them. The influence of S. Francis of
Assisi was needed to prepare the way, and it was only towards the close
of the thirteenth century that the breath of life began to be infused
into these conventional representations, and painting became a living
art.
As it had begun in Italy, under the auspices of the Church, so it
chiefly developed in that country; at first in Florence and Siena, later
in Rome, whither its greatest masters were summoned by the Pope, and in
Venice, where, farther from the ecclesiastical influence, it flourished
more exuberantly, and so became more capable of being transplanted to
other countries. In Germany, however, and the Low Countries it had
appeared early enough to be considered almost as an independent growth,
though not till considerably later were the northern schools capable of
sustaining the reputation given them by the Van Eycks and Roger Van der
Weyden.
But for the effects of the Renaissance in Italy in the fifteenth century
it is questionable whether painting would ever have spread as it did in
the sixteenth and seventeenth to Spain and France. But by the close of
the fifteenth century such enormous progress had been made by the
Italian painters towards the realisation of human action and emotion in
pictures, that from being merely an accessory of religious
establishments, painting had become as much a part of the recognised
means of intellectual enjoyment of everyday life as music, sculpture, or
even the refinements of food and clothing.
Portraiture, in particular, had gradually advanced to a foremost place
in painting. Originally it was used exclusively for memorials of the
dead--as we have seen in the case of the paintings from the Greek
tombs--and on coins and medals. But gradually the practice arose, as
painters became more skilful in representing the appearance of the
model, of introducing the features and figures of actual personages into
religious pictures, in the character of "donors," and as these increased
in importance, the sacred personages were gradually relegated to the
background, and ultimately dispensed with altogether. At the beginning
of the sixteenth century we find Hans Holbein (as an example)
recommended by Erasmus to Sir Thomas More as a portrait painter who
wished to try his fortunes in England; and during the rest of his life
painting practically nothing but portraits.
By the end of the sixteenth century, if not earlier, painting had become
almost as much a business as an art, not only in Italy but in most other
countries in Europe, and was established in each country more or less
independently. So that making every allowance for the various foreign
influences that affected each different country, it is convenient to
trace the development of painting in each country separately, and we
arrange our chapters accordingly under the titles of Tuscan and Venetian
(the two main divisions of Italian painting), Spanish, Flemish, Dutch,
German, French, and British Schools. In each country, as might be
expected--and especially in Italy--there are subdivisions; but, broadly
speaking, the lover of pictures will be quite well enough equipped for
the enjoyment of them if he is able to recognise their country, and
roughly their period, without troubling about the particular district or
personal influence of their origin.
For while it is undoubtedly true that the more one knows about the
history of painting in general the greater will be the appreciation of
the various excellences which tend to perfection, it is absolutely
ridiculous to suppose that only the learned in such matters are capable
of deriving enjoyment from a beautiful picture, or of expressing an
opinion upon it. In the first place, the picture is intended for the
public, and the public have therefore the best right to say whether it
pleases them or not--and why. And it may be noted as a positive fact
that whenever the public, in any country, have a free choice in matters
of art, that choice generally turns out to be right, and is ultimately
endorsed by the best critics. Most of the vulgar art to be found in
advertisements and the illustrated papers is put there by ignorant and
vulgar providers, who imagine that the whole public are as ignorant and
vulgar as themselves; whereas whenever a better standard of taste is
given an opportunity, it never fails to find a welcome. Until Sir Henry
Wood inaugurated the present regime, the Promenade Concerts at Covent
Garden were popularly supposed to represent the national taste in music.
Until the Temple Classics and Every Man's Library were published it was
commonly supposed that the people at large cared for nothing but Bow
Bells, the Penny Novelette, or such unclassical if alluring provender.
In the domain of painting, the Royal Academy has such a firm and ancient
hold on the popular imagination of the English that its influence is
difficult to dispel; but there are many signs that its baneful
ascendency is at length on the decline; and it is well known that the
National Gallery is attracting more and more visitors and Burlington
House less and less as the years go on.
In the following attempt at a general survey of the history of
painting--imperfect or ill-proportioned as it may appear to this or that
specialist or lover of any particular school--I have thought it best to
assume a fair amount of ignorance of the subject on the part of the
reader, though without, I hope, taking any advantage of it, even if it
exists; and I have therefore drawn freely upon several old histories and
handbooks for both facts and opinions concerning the old masters and
their works. In some cases, I think, a dead lion is decidedly better
than a live dog.
R. D.
CHELSEA, 1914.
_TUSCAN SCHOOLS_
I
GIOVANNI CIMABUE
By the will of God, in the year 1240, we are told by Vasari, GIOVANNI
CIMABUE, of the noble family of that name, was born in the city of
Florence, to give the first light to the art of painting. Vasari's
"Lives of the Painters" was first published in Florence in 1550, and
with all its defects and all its inaccuracies, which have afforded so
much food for contention among modern critics, it is still the principal
source of our knowledge of the earlier history of painting as it was
revived in Italy in the thirteenth century.
Making proper allowance for Vasari's desire to glorify his own city, and
to make a dignified commencement to his work by attributing to Cimabue
more than was possibly his due, we need not be deterred by the very
latest dicta of the learned from accepting the outlines of his life of
Cimabue as an embodiment of the tradition of the time in which he
lived--two centuries and a quarter after Cimabue--and, until
contradicted by positive evidence, as worthy of general credence. In the
popular mind Cimabue still remains "The Father of modern painting," and
though his renown may have attracted more pictures and more legends to
his name than properly belong to him, it is certain that Dante, his
contemporary, wrote of him thus:--
Credette Cimabue nella pintura
Tener lo campo, ed ora ha Giotto il grido
Si che la fama di colui s'oscura.
This is at least as important as anything written by a contemporary of
William Shakespeare; and even if we are required to believe that some of
his most important works are by another hand, his influence on the
history of art is beyond question. Let us then follow Vasari a little
further, and we shall find, at any rate, what is typical of the
development of genius.
"This youth," Vasari continues, "being considered by his father and
others to give proof of an acute judgment and a clear understanding, was
sent to Santa Maria Novella to study letters under a relation who was
then master in grammar to the novices of that convent. But Cimabue,
instead of devoting himself to letters, consumed the whole day in
drawing men, horses, houses, and other various fancies on his books and
different papers--an occupation to which he felt himself impelled by
nature."
This is exactly what is recorded of Reynolds, it may be noted, and very
much the same as in the case of Gainsborough, Benjamin West--and many a
modern painter.
"This natural inclination was favoured by fortune, for the governors of
the city had invited certain Greek (probably Byzantine) painters to
Florence, for the purpose of restoring the art of painting, which had
not merely degenerated but was altogether lost. These artists, among
other works, began to paint the chapel of the Gondi in Santa Maria
Novella, and Cimabue, often escaping from the school, and having
already made a commencement of the art he was so fond of, would stand
watching these masters at their work. His father, and the artists
themselves, therefore concluded that he must be well endowed for
painting, and thought that much might be expected from him if he devoted
himself to it. Giovanni was accordingly, much to his delight, placed
with these masters, whom he soon greatly surpassed both in design and
colouring. For they, caring little for the progress of art, executed
their works not in the excellent manner of the ancient Greeks, but in
the rude modern style of their own day. Wherefore, though Cimabue
imitated them, he very much improved the art, relieving it greatly from
their uncouth manner and doing honour to his country by the name that he
acquired and by the works which he performed. Of this we have evidence
in Florence from the pictures which he painted there--as for example the
front of the altar of Saint Cecilia and a picture of the Virgin, in
Santa Croce, which was and still is (_i.e._ in 1550) attached to one of
the pilasters on the right of the choir."
Unfortunately the very first example cited pulls us up short alongside
the official catalogue of the Uffizi Gallery (where the picture was
placed in 1841), in which it is catalogued (No. 20) as "Unknown ...
Vasari erroneously attributes it to Cimabue."
Tiresome as it may seem to be thus distracted, at the very outset, by
the question of authenticity, it is nevertheless desirable to start with
a clear understanding that in surveying in a general way the history and
development of painting, it will be quite hopeless to wait for the final
word on the supposed authorship of every picture mentioned. In this
instance, as it happens, there is no reason to question the modern
catalogue, though that is by no means the same thing as denying that
Cimabue painted the picture which existed in the church of S. Cecilia in
Vasari's time. Is it more likely, it may be asked, that Vasari, who is
accused of unduly glorifying Cimabue, would attribute to him a work not
worthy of his fame, or that during the three centuries since Vasari
wrote a substitution was effected? The other picture, the _Madonna and
Child Enthroned_, which found its way into our National Gallery in 1857,
is still officially catalogued as the work of Cimabue, and it is to be
hoped that this precious relic, together with the Madonnas in the
Louvre, the Florence Academy, and in the lower church at Assisi, may be
long spared to us by the authority of the critics as "genuine
productions" of the beloved master.
On the general question, however, let me reassure the reader by stating
that so far as possible I have avoided the mention of any pictures, in
the following pages, about which there is any grave doubt, save in a few
cases where tradition is so firmly established that it seems heartless
to disturb it until final judgment is entered--of which the following
examples of Cimabue's reputed work may be taken as types. The latest
criticism seeks to deprive him of every single existing picture he is
believed to have painted; those mentioned by Vasari which have perished
may be considered equally unauthentic, but, as before mentioned, his
account of them gives us as well as anything else the story of the
beginnings of the art.
Having afterwards undertaken, Vasari continues, to paint a large picture
in the Abbey of the Santa Trinita in Florence for the monks of
Vallombrosa, he made great efforts to justify the high opinion already
formed of him and showed greater powers of invention, especially in the
attitude of the Virgin, whom he depicted with the child in her arms and
numerous angels around her, on a gold ground. This is the picture now in
the Accademia in Florence. The frescoes next described are no longer in
existence:--
"Cimabue next painted in fresco at the hospital of the Porcellana at the
corner of the Via Nuova which leads into the Borgo Ogni Santi. On the
front of this building, which has the principal door in the centre, he
painted the Virgin receiving the Annunciation from the angel, on one
side, and Christ with Cleophas and Luke on the other, all the figures
the size of life. In this work he departed more decidedly from the dry
and formal manner of his instructors, giving more life and movement to
the draperies, vestments and other accessories, and rendering all more
flexible and natural than was common to the manner of those Greeks whose
work were full of hard lines and sharp angles as well in mosaic as in
painting. And this rude unskilful manner the Greeks had acquired not so
much from study or settled purpose as from having servilely followed
certain fixed rules and habits transmitted through a long series of
years by one painter to another, while none ever thought of the
amelioration of his design, the embellishment of his colouring, or the
improvement of his invention."
After describing Cimabue's activities at Pisa and Assisi with equal
circumstance, Vasari passes to the famous _Rucellai Madonna_, now
supposed to be by the hand of Duccio of Siena. However doubtful the
story may appear in the light of modern criticism, historical or
artistic, it certainly forms part of the history of painting--for its
spirit if not for its accuracy--and as such it can never be too often
quoted:--
"He afterwards painted the picture of the Virgin for the Church of
Santa Maria Novella, where it is suspended on high between the chapel of
the Rucellai family and that of the Bardi. This picture is of larger
size than any figure that had been painted down to those times, and the
angels surrounding it make it evident that although Cimabue still
retained the Greek manner, he was nevertheless gradually approaching the
mode of outline and general method of modern times. Thus it happened
that this work was an object of so much admiration to the people of that
day--they having never seen anything better--that it was carried in
solemn procession, with the sound of trumpets and other festal
demonstration, from the house of Cimabue to the Church, he himself being
highly rewarded and honoured for it. It is further reported, and may be
read in certain records of old painters, that while Cimabue was painting
this picture in a garden near the gate of S. Pietro, King Charles the
Elder of Anjou passed through Florence, and the authorities of the city,
among other marks of respect, conducted him to see the picture of
Cimabue. When this work was thus shown to the King, it had not before
been seen by anyone; wherefore all the men and women of Florence
hastened in great crowds to admire it, making all possible demonstration
of delight."
Now whether or not Vasari was right in crediting Cimabue with these
honours in Florence instead of Duccio in Siena, makes little difference
in the story of the origin and early development of the art of painting.
One may doubt the accuracy of the mosaic account of the Creation, the
authorship of the Fourth Gospel or the Shakespearean poems, or the list
of names of the Normans who are recorded to have fought with William the
Conqueror. But what if one may? The Creation, the poems and plays of
Shakespeare and the battle of Hastings are all of them historic facts,
and neither science, nor literature, nor history is a penny the worse
for the loose though perfectly understandable conditions under which
these facts have been handed down to us. When we come down to times
nearer to our own the accuracy of data is more easily ascertainable,
though the confusion arising out of them often obscures their real
significance; but in looking for origins we are content to ignore the
details, provided we can find enough general information on which to
form an idea of them. To these first chapters of Vasari, then, we need
not hesitate to resort for the main sources of the earlier history of
painting. Even so far as we have gone we have learnt several important
facts as to the nature of the foundations on which the glorious
structure was to be raised.
First of all, it is apparent that the practice of painting, though
strictly forbidden by the earliest Fathers of the Church, was used by
the faithful in the Eastern churches for purposes of decoration, and was
introduced into Italy--we may safely say Tuscany--for the same purpose.
Second, that being transplanted into this new soil, it put forth such
wonderful blossoms that it came to be cultivated with much more regard;
and from being merely a necessary or conventional ornament of certain
portions of the church, was soon accounted its greatest glory.
Third, that it was accorded popular acclamation.
Fourth, that its most attractive feature in the eyes of beholders was
its life-like representation of the human form and other natural
objects.
Prosaic as these considerations may appear, they are nevertheless the
fundamental principles that underlie the whole of the subsequent
development of painting; and unless every picture in the world were
destroyed, and the art of painting wholly lost for at least a thousand
years, there could not be another picture produced which would not refer
back through continuous tradition to one or every one of them. First,
the basis of religion. Second, the development peculiar to the soil.
Third, the imitation of nature. Fourth, the approbation of the
public--there we have the four cardinal points in the chart of painting.
It would be easy enough to contend that painting had nothing whatever to
do with religion--if only by reference to the godless efforts of some of
the modernists; but such a contention could only be based on the
imperfect recognition of what religion actually means. In Italy in the
thirteenth century, as in Spain in the seventeenth, it meant the Church
of Rome. In Germany of the sixteenth, as in England in the eighteenth,
it meant something totally different. To put it a little differently,
all painting that is worth so calling has been done to the glory of God;
and after making due allowance for human frailties of every variety, it
is hard to say that among all the hundreds of great and good painters
there has ever been one who was not a good man.
As for the influence of environment, or nationality, this is so
universally recognised that the term "school" more often means locality
than tuition. We talk generally of the French, English, or Dutch
schools, and more particularly of the Paduan, Venetian, or Florentine.
It is only when we hesitate to call our national treasure a Botticelli
or a Bellini that we add the words "school of" to the name of the master
who is fondly supposed to have inspired its author. The difference
between a wood block of the early eighteenth century executed in
England and Japan respectively may be cited as an extreme instance of
the effect of locality on idea, when the method is identical.
With reference to the imitation of nature, at the mere mention of which
modernists become so furious, it is worth recalling that the earliest
story about painting relates to Zeuxis, who is said to have painted a
bunch of grapes with such skill that the birds ignored the fruit and
pecked at the picture. In later times we hear of Rembrandt being the
butt of his pupils, who, knowing his love of money, used to paint coins
on the floor; and there are plenty of stories of people painting flies
and other objects so naturally as to deceive the unwary spectator.
Vasari is continually praising his compatriots for painting "like the
life."
Lastly, the approbation, or if possible the acclamation, of the public
has seldom if ever been unconsidered by the artist. Where it has, it has
only been the greatest genius that has been able to exist without it. A
man who has anything to say must have somebody to say it to; and though
a painter may seem to be wasting the best part of his life in trying to
make the people understand what he has to say in his language instead of
talking to them in their own common tongue, it is rarely that he fails
in the end, even if, alas for him, the understanding comes too late to
be of any benefit to himself.
Cimabue's last work is said to be a figure, which was left unfinished,
of S. John, in mosaic, for the Duomo at Pisa. This was in 1302, which is
supposed to be the date of his death, though Vasari puts it two years
earlier, at the time he was engaged with the architect Arnolfo Lapi in
superintending the building of the Duomo in Florence, where he is
buried.
II
GIOTTO DI BONDONE
While according all due honour, and probably more, to Cimabue as the
originator of modern painting, it is to his pupil, GIOTTO, that we are
accustomed to look for the first developments of its possibilities. Had
Cimabue's successors been as conservative as his instructors, we might
still be not very much better off than if he had never lived. For much
as there is to admire in Cimabue's painting, it is only the first flush
of the dawn which it heralded, and though containing the germ of the
future development of the art, is yet without any of the glory which in
the fulness of time was to result from it.
To Giotto, Vasari considers, "is due the gratitude which the masters in
painting owe to Nature, seeing that he alone succeeded in resuscitating
art and restoring her to a path that may be called the true one; and
that the art of design, of which his contemporaries had little if any
knowledge, was by his means effectually recalled to life." This seems to
detract in some degree from his eulogies of Cimabue; but it is to the
last sentence that our attention should be directed, which implies that
in profiting by the master's example he succeeded in extending the
possibilities of the new art beyond its first limits. Cimabue, we may
believe, drew his Virgins and Saints from living models, whereas his
predecessors had merely repeated formulas laid down for them by long
tradition. Giotto went further, and extended his scope to the world at
large. For the plain gold background he substituted the landscape, thus
breaking down, as it were, a great wall, and seeing beyond it. Nor was
this innovation merely a technical one--it was the man's nature that
effected it and made his art a living thing.
Giotto, who was born in 1276, was the son of a simple husbandman, who
lived at Vespignano, about fourteen miles from Florence. Cimabue chanced
upon the boy when he was only about ten years old, tending his father's
sheep, and was astonished to find that he was occupied in making a
drawing of one of them upon a smooth piece of rock with a sharp stone.
He was so pleased with this that he asked to be allowed to take him back
to Florence, and the boy proved so apt a pupil that before very long he
was regularly employed in painting.
His influence was not confined to Florence, or even to Tuscany, but the
whole of Italy was indebted to him for a new impulse in art, and he is
said to have followed Pope Clement V. to Avignon and executed many
pictures there. Giotto was not only a painter, but his name is also
famous in the history of architecture: the wonderful Campanile adjoining
the Duomo in Florence was designed by him, and the foundations laid and
the building erected under his instructions. On sculpture too he
exercised a considerable influence, as may be seen in the panels and
statues which adorn the lower part of the tower, suggested if not
actually designed by Giotto, and carved by Andrea Pisano.
Chief of the earlier works of Giotto are his frescoes in the under
church at Assisi, and in these may be seen the remarkable fertility of
invention with which he endowed his successors. Instead of the
conventional Madonna and Child, and groups of saints and angels, we have
here whole legends represented in a series of pictures of almost
dramatic character. In the four triangular compartments of the groined
vaulting are the three vows of the Franciscan Order, namely, Poverty,
Chastity, and Obedience, and in the fourth the glorification of the
saint. In the first, the Vow of Poverty, it is significant to find that
he has taken his subject from Dante. Poverty appears as a woman whom
Christ gives in marriage to S. Francis: she stands among thorns; in the
foreground are two youths mocking her, and on either side a group of
angels as witnesses of the holy union. On the left is a youth, attended
by an angel, giving his cloak to a poor man; on the right are the rich
and great, who are invited by an angel to approach, but turn scornfully
away. The other designs appear to be Giotto's own invention. Chastity,
as a young woman, sits in a fortress surrounded by walls, and angels pay
her devotion. On one side are laymen and churchmen led forward by S.
Francis, and on the other Penance, habited as a hermit, driving away
earthly love and impurity. S. Francis in glory is more conventional, as
might be expected from the nature of the subject.
In the ancient Basilica of S. Peter in Rome Giotto made the celebrated
mosaic of the _Navicella_, which is now in the vestibule of S. Peter's.
It represents a ship, in which are the disciples, on a stormy sea.
According to the early Christian symbolisation the ship denoted the
Church. In the foreground on the right the Saviour, walking on the
waves, rescues Peter. Opposite sits a fisherman in tranquil expectation,
typifying the confident hope of the simple believer. This mosaic has
frequently been moved, and has undergone so much restoration that only
the composition can be attributed to Giotto.
Of the paintings of scriptural history attributed to Giotto very few
remain, and the greater part of those have in recent times been
pronounced to be the work of his followers. Foremost, however, among the
undoubted examples are paintings in the Chapel of the Madonna dell'Arena
at Padua, which was erected in 1303. In thirty-eight pictures, extending
in three rows along the wall, is contained the life of the Virgin. The
ground of the vaulting is blue studded with gold stars, among which
appear the heads of Christ and the prophets, while above the arch of the
choir is the Saviour in a glory of angels. Combined with these sacred
scenes and personages are introduced fitting allusions to the moral
state of man, the lower part of the side walls containing, in medallions
painted in monochrome, allegorical figures of the virtues and vices--the
former feminine and ideal, the latter masculine and individual--while
the entrance wall is covered with the wonderful _Last Judgment_.
Here, as in his allegorical pieces, Giotto appears as a great innovator,
a number of situations suggested by the Scriptures being now either
represented for the first time or seen in a totally new form. Well-known
subjects are enriched with numerous subordinate figures, making the
picture more truthful and more intelligible; as in the Flight into
Egypt, where the Holy Family is accompanied by a servant, and three
other figures are introduced to complete the composition. In the Raising
of Lazarus, too, the disciples behind the Saviour on the one side and
the astonished multitude on the other form two choruses, an arrangement
which is followed, but with considerable modification, in Ouwater's
unique picture of the same subject now in the Kaiser Friedrich Museum at
Berlin. This approach to dramatic reality sometimes assumes a character
which, as Kugler puts it, oversteps the strict limits of the higher
ecclesiastical style. It is worth noting, however, that the early
Netherlandish school--as we shall see in a later chapter--developed this
characteristic to a far greater extent, continuing the tradition handed
down, quite independently of Giotto, through illuminated manuscripts,
and with less of that expression of the highest religious or moral
feeling which is so evident in Giotto.
The few existing altar-pieces of Giotto are less important than his
frescoes, inasmuch as they do not admit of the exhibition of his higher
and most original gifts. Two signed examples are a _Coronation of the
Virgin_ in Santa Croce at Florence, and a _Madonna_, with saints and
angels on the side panels, originally in S. Maria degli Angeli at
Bologna, and now in the Brera at Milan. The latter, however, is not now
recognised as his. The earliest authentic example is the so-called
Stefaneschi altar-piece, painted in 1298 for the same patron who
commissioned the _Navicella_. Giotto's highest merit consists especially
in the number of new subjects which he introduced, in the life-like and
spiritual expression with which he heightened all familiar occurrences
and scenes, and in the choice of the moment of representation. In all
these no earlier Christian painter can be compared with him. Another and
scarcely less important quality he possessed is in the power of
conveying truth of character. The faces introduced into some of his
compositions bear an inward guarantee of their lively resemblance to
some living model, and this characteristic seems to have been eagerly
seized upon by his immediate followers for emulation, as is noticeable
in two of the principal works--in the Bargello at Florence, and in the
church of the Incoronata at Naples--formerly attributed to him but now
relegated to his pupils. The portrait of Dante in a fresco on the wall
of the Bargello shows a deep and penetrating mind, and in the
_Sacraments_ at Naples we find heads copied from life with obvious
fidelity and such a natural conception of particular scenes as brings
them to the mind of the spectator with extraordinary distinctness.
Of Giotto's numerous followers in the fourteenth century it is
impossible in the present work to give any particular account, but of
his influence at large on the practice as on the treatment and
conception of painting at this stage of its development, one or two
examples may be cited as typical of the progress he urged, such as the
frescoes in the Campo Santo at Pisa. This wonderful cloister, which
measures four hundred feet in length and over a hundred in
width--traditionally the dimensions of Noah's ark--was founded by the
Archbishop Ubaldo, before 1200, on his return from Palestine bringing
fifty-three ships laden with earth from the Holy Land. On this soil it
was erected, and surrounded by high walls in 1278. The whole of these
walls were afterwards adorned with paintings, in two tiers.
So far as concerns the history of painting, the question of the
authorship of these frescoes--which are by several distinct hands--is
altogether subordinate to that of the subjects depicted and the manner
in which they are treated, and we shall learn more from a general survey
of them than by following out the fortunes of particular painters. The
earliest are those on the east side, near the chapel, but more important
are those on the north, of about the middle of the fourteenth century,
which show a decided advance, both in feeling and execution, beyond
Giotto. The first is _The Triumph of Death_, in which the supernatural
is tempered with representations of what is mortal to an extent that
already shows that painting was not to be confined to religious uses
alone. All the pleasures and sorrows of life are here represented, on
the earth; it is only in the sky that we see the demons and angels. On
one side is a festive company of ladies and cavaliers, with hawks and
dogs, seated under orange trees, with rich carpets at their feet, all
splendidly dressed. A troubadour and a singing girl amuse them with
songs, _amorini_ flutter around them and wave their torches. On the
other side is another group, also a hunting party, on splendidly
caparisoned horses, and accompanied by a train of attendants. On the
mountains in the background are several hermits, who in contrast to the
votaries of pleasure have attained in a life of contemplation and
abstinence the highest term of human existence. Many of the figures are
traditionally supposed to be portraits.
The centre foreground is devoted to the less fortunate on earth, the
beggars and cripples, and also corpses of the mighty; and with these we
may turn to the allegorical treatment of the subject. To the first group
descends the angel of death, swinging a scythe, and to her the
unfortunate are stretching out their arms in supplication for an end to
their sorrows. The second group, it will be seen, are tracing a path
which leads to three open coffins in which lie the bodies of three
princes in different stages of decay, while a monk on crutches--intended
for S. Macarius--is pointing to them. The air is filled with angels and
demons, some of whom receive the souls of the dead.
A second picture is _The Last Judgment_, and a third _Hell_, the
resemblance between which and the great altar-piece in the Strozzi
Chapel in Santa Maria Novella at Florence, painted by Andrea Orcagna in
1357, was formerly considered proof of the same authorship. They are
now attributed to an unknown disciple of Pietro Lorenzetti, who was
painting in Siena between 1306 and 1348, and is assumed to have been a
pupil of Duccio.
The fourth picture, apparently by another hand--possibly that of
Lorenzetti himself--is _The Life of the Hermits_ in the wilderness of
Thebais, composed of a number of single groups in which the calm life of
contemplation is represented in the most varied manner. In front flows
the Nile, and a number of hermits are seen on its banks still subjected
to earthly occupations; they catch fish, hew wood, carry burdens to the
city, etc. Higher up, in the mountains, they are more estranged from the
world, but the Tempter follows them in various disguises, sometimes
frightful, sometimes seducing. As a whole this composition is
constructed in the ancient manner--as in Byzantine art--several series
rising one above the other, each of equal size, and without any
pretension to perspective: the single groups, at the same time, are
executed with much grace and feeling.
Next to this are six pictures of the history of S. Ranieri, and as many
of the lives of S. Efeso and S. Potito. The latter are known to have
been painted in 1392 by Spinello of Arezzo, or Spinello Aretino as he is
called, of whose work we have some fragments in the National
Gallery--alas too few! Two of these fragments are from his large fresco
_The Fall of the Rebellious Angels_, painted for the church of S. Maria
degli Angeli at Arezzo, which after being whitewashed over were rescued
on the conversion of the church to secular uses. Vasari relates that
when Spinello had finished this work the devil appeared to him in the
night as horrible and deformed as in the picture, and asked him where he
had seen him in so frightful a form, and why he had treated him so
ignominiously. Spinello awoke from his dream with horror, fell into a
state of abstraction, and soon afterwards died.
On the third part of the south wall is represented the history of Job,
in a series of paintings which were formerly attributed to Giotto
himself, though it is now recognised that they cannot be of an earlier
date than about 1370.
The _Temptation of Job_ is by Taddeo Gaddi, and the others, painted in
1372, are probably by Francesco da Volterra--not to be confused with the
sixteenth century painter Daniele da Volterra.
The paintings on the west wall are of inferior workmanship, while those
on the north were the crowning achievement of Benozzo Gozzoli a century
later.
III
THE EARLIER QUATTROCENTISTS
COMING to the second period in the development of the new art--roughly,
that is to say, from 1400 to 1450--Vasari observes that even where there
is no great facility displayed, yet the works evince great care and
thought; the manner is more free and graceful, the colouring more varied
and pleasing; more figures are employed in the compositions, and the
drawing is more correct inasmuch as it is closer to nature. It was
Masaccio, he says, who during this period superseded the manner of
Giotto in regard to the painting of flesh, draperies, buildings, etc.,
and also restored the practice of foreshortening and brought to light
that modern manner which has been followed by all artists. More natural
attitudes, and more effectual expression of feeling in the gestures and
movements of the body resulted, as art seeking to approach the truth of
nature by more correct drawing and to exhibit so close a resemblance to
the face of the living person that each figure might at once be
recognised. _Thus these masters constantly endeavoured to reproduce what
they beheld in nature and no more; their works became consequently more
carefully considered and better understood._ This gave them courage to
lay down rules for perspective and to carry the foreshortenings
precisely to the point which gives an exact imitation of the relief
apparent in nature and the real form. Minute attention to the effects of
light and shade and to various technical difficulties ensued, and
efforts were made towards a better order of composition. Landscapes also
were attempted; tracts of country, trees, shrubs, flowers, clouds, the
air, and other natural objects were depicted with some resemblance to
the realities represented; insomuch that the art might be said not only
to have become ennobled, but to have attained to that flower of youth
from which the fruit afterwards to follow might reasonably be looked
for.
Foremost among the painters of this period was FRA ANGELICO, or to give
him his proper title, Frate Giovanni da Fiesole, who was born in 1387
not far from Florence, and died in 1455. When he was twenty years old he
joined the order of the preaching friars, and all his painting is
devoted to religious subjects. He was a man of the utmost simplicity,
and most holy in every act of his life. He disregarded all worldly
advantages. Kindly to all, and temperate in all his habits, he used to
say that he who practised the art of painting had need of quiet, and
should live without cares and anxious thoughts; adding that he who would
do the work of Christ should perpetually remain with Christ. He was most
humble and modest, and in his painting he gave evidence of piety and
devotion as well as of ability, and the saints that he painted have more
of the air of sanctity than have those of any other master.
It was the custom of Fra Angelico to abstain from retouching or
improving any painting once finished. He altered nothing, but left all
as it was done the first time, believing, as he said, that such was the
will of God. It is also affirmed that he would never take his brushes in
hand until he had first offered a prayer, and he is said never to have
painted a crucifix without tears streaming from his eyes, and in the
countenance and attitude of his figures it is easy to perceive proof of
his sincerity, his goodness, and the depth of his devotion to the
religion of Christ.
This is well seen in the picture of the _Coronation of the Virgin_,
which is now in the Louvre (No. 1290). "Superior to all his other
works," Vasari says of this masterpiece, "and one in which he surpassed
himself, is a picture in the Church of San Domenico at Fiesole; in this
work he proves the high quality of his powers as well as the profound
intelligence he possessed of the art he practised. The subject is the
Coronation of the Virgin by Jesus Christ; the principal figures are
surrounded by a choir of angels, among whom are a vast number of saints
and holy personages, male and female. These figures are so numerous, so
well executed in attitudes, so various, and with expressions of the head
so richly diversified, that one feels infinite pleasure and delight in
regarding them. Nay, one is convinced that those blessed spirits can
look no otherwise in heaven itself, or, to speak under correction, could
not if they had forms appear otherwise; for all the saints male and
female assembled here have not only life and expression most delicately
and truly rendered, but the colouring also of the whole work would seem
to have been given by the hand of a saint or of an angel like
themselves. It is not without sufficient reason therefore that this
excellent ecclesiastic is always called Frate Giovanni Angelico. The
stories from the life of Our Lady and of San Domenico which adorn the
predella, moreover, are in the same divine manner; and I for myself can
affirm with truth that I never see this work but it appears something
new, nor can I ever satisfy myself with the sight of it or have enough
of beholding it."
No less beautiful are the five compartments of the predella to the
altar-piece still in San Domenico at Fiesole--which were purchased for
the National Gallery in 1860 at the then alarming price of L3500--with
no less than two hundred and sixty little figures of saintly personages,
"so beautiful," as Vasari says, "that they appear to be truly beings of
Paradise."