FRA FILIPPO LIPPI, born in Florence about 1406, and dying there in 1469,

was the exact antithesis of Fra Angelico, both in his private life and

in the method of his painting. He was just as earthly in both respects

as Fra Angelico was heavenly. As a child he was put with the Carmelites,

and as he showed an inclination for drawing rather than for study, he

was allowed every facility for studying the newly painted chapel of the

Branacci, and followed the manner of Masaccio so closely that it was

said that the spirit of that master had entered into his body. It is

only fair to Masaccio to add that this means his artistic spirit, for

Filippo's moral character was by no means exemplary. The story of one of

his best-known works, _The Nativity_, which is now in the Louvre (No.

1343), is thus related by Vasari:--"Having received a commission from

the nuns of Santa Margherita, at Prato, to paint a picture for the high

altar of their church, he chanced one day to see the daughter of

Francesco Buti, a citizen of Florence, who had been sent to the convent

as a novice. Filippo, after a glance at Lucrezia--for that was her

name--was so taken with her beauty that he prevailed upon the nuns to

allow him to paint her as the Virgin. This resulted in his falling so

violently in love with her that he induced her to run away with him.

Resisting every effort of her father and of the nuns to make her leave

Filippo, she remained with him, and bore him a son who lived to be

almost as famous a painter as his father. He was called Filippino

Lippi."

The picture of S. John and six saints in the National Gallery (No. 677)

also recalls the story of his wildness, inasmuch as it came from the

Palazzo Medici, where Filippo worked for the great Cosimo di Medici. It

was well known that Filippo paid no attention to his work when he was

engaged in the pursuit of his pleasures, and so Cosimo shut him up in

the palace so that he might not waste his time in running about while

working for him. But Filippo after a couple of days' confinement made a

rope out of his bed clothes, and let himself down from the window, and

for several days gave himself up to his own amusements. When Cosimo

found that he had disappeared, he had search made for him, and at last

Filippo returned; after which Cosimo was afraid to shut him up again in

view of the risk he had run in descending from the window.

Vasari considers that Filippo excelled in his smaller pictures--"In

these he surpassed himself, imparting to them a grace and beauty than

which nothing finer could be imagined. Examples of this may be seen in

the predellas of all the works painted by him. He was indeed an

[Illustration: PLATE I.--FILIPPO LIPPI

THE ANNUNCIATION

_National Gallery, London_]

artist of such power that in his own time he was surpassed by none;

therefore it is that he has not only been always praised by

Michelangelo, but in many particulars has been imitated by him."

As a contributor to the progress of the art of painting he is credited

by Vasari with two innovations, which may be seen in his paintings in

the church of San Domenico at Prato, namely (1) the figures being larger

than life, and thereby forming an example to later artists for giving

true grandeur to large figures; and (2) certain figures clothed in

vestments but little used at that time, whereby the minds of other

artists were awakened and began to depart from that sameness which

should rather be called obsolete monotony than antique simplicity.

It is noticeable that despite his bad character--which is said to have

been the cause of his death by poison--all his work was in religious

subjects. He was painting the chapel in the Church of Our Lady at

Spoleto when, in 1469, he died.

PAOLO UCCELLO, as he was called, was born at Florence in 1397, and died

there in 1475. His real name was Paolo di Dono, but he was so fond of

painting animals and birds--especially the latter--that he officially

signed himself as Paolo Uccello. He devoted so much of his time,

however, to the study of perspective, that both his life and his work

suffered thereby. His wife used to relate that he would stand the whole

night through beside his writing table, and when she entreated him to

come to bed, would only say, "Oh, what a delightful thing is this

perspective!" Donatello, the sculptor, is said to have told him that in

his ceaseless study of perspective he was leaving the substance for the

shadow; but Donatello was not a painter.

Before his time the painters had not studied the question of

perspective scientifically. Giotto had made no attempt at it, and

Masaccio only came nearer to realising it by chance. Brunelleschi, the

architect, laid down its first principles, but it was Uccello who first

put these principles into practice in painting, and thereby paved the

way for his successors to walk firmly upon.

How he struggled with the difficulties of this vitally important subject

may be seen in the large battle-piece at the National Gallery, and

however crude and absurd this fine composition may seem at first sight

to those who are only accustomed to looking at modern pictures, it must

be remembered that Uccello is here struggling, as it were, with a savage

monster which to succeeding painters has, through his efforts, been a

submissive slave.

This picture is one of four panels executed for the Bartolini family.

One of the others is in the Louvre, and a third in the Uffizi.

Another--or indeed almost the only other--work of Uccello which is now

to be seen is the colossal painting in monochrome (_terra-verde_) on the

wall of the cathedral at Florence. Strangely enough, this equestrian

portrait commemorates an Englishman, Sir John Hawkwood, whose name is

Italianized in the inscription into Giovanni Acuto. He was born at Sible

Hedingham in Essex, the son of a tanner, and adventuring under Edward

III. into France, found his way to Florence, where he served the State

so well that they interred him, on his death in 1393, at the public

expense, and subsequently commissioned Uccello to execute his monument.

With all his devotion to science, the artist has committed the strange

mistake of making the horse stand on two legs on the same side, the

other two being lifted.

TO MASACCIO, born in or about 1400, and dying in 1443, we owe a great

step in art towards realism. It was he, says Vasari, who first attained

the clear perception that _painting is only the close imitation, by

drawing and colouring simply, of all the forms presented by nature

showing them as they are produced by her, and that whoever shall most

perfectly effect this may be said to have most nearly approached the

summit of excellence_. The conviction of this truth, he adds, was the

cause of Masaccio's attaining so much knowledge by means of perpetual

study that he may be accounted among the first by whom art was in a

measure delivered from rudeness and hardness; it was he who led the way

to the realisation of beautiful attitudes and movements which were never

exhibited by any painter before his day, while he also imparted a life

and force to his figures, with a certain roundness and relief which

render them truly characteristic and natural. Possessing great

correctness of judgment, Masaccio perceived that all figures not

sufficiently foreshortened to appear standing firmly on the plane

whereon they are placed, but reared up on the points of their feet, must

needs be deprived of all grace and excellence in the most important

essentials. It is true that Uccello, in his studies of perspective, had

helped to lessen this difficulty, but Masaccio managed his

foreshortenings with much greater skill (though doubtless with less

science) and succeeded better than any artist before him. Moreover, he

imparted extreme softness and harmony to his paintings, and was careful

to have the carnations of the heads and other nude parts in accordance

with the colours of the draperies, which he represented with few and

simple folds as they are seen in real life.

Masaccio's principal remaining works are his frescoes in the famous

Branacci Chapel at the Carmine convent in Florence. The work of

decorating the chapel was begun by Masolino, but finished by Masaccio

and Filippo Lippi. Vasari states it as a fact that all the most

celebrated sculptors and painters had become excellent and illustrious

by studying Masaccio's work in this chapel, and there is good reason to

believe that Michelangelo and Raphael profited by their studies there,

without mentioning all the names enumerated by Vasari. Seeing how

important the influence of Masaccio was destined to become, I have

ventured to italicise Vasari's opinions on the causes which operated in

creating the Florentine style and in raising the art of painting to

heights undreamt of by its earliest pioneers.

IV

THE LATER QUATTROCENTISTS

THREE names stand out conspicuously from the ranks of Florentine

painters in the latter half of the fifteenth century. But progress being

one of the essential characteristics of the art at this period, as in

all others, it is not surprising that the order of their fame coincides

(inversely) pretty nearly with that of their date. First, ANTONIO

POLLAIUOLO; second, SANDRO BOTTICELLI; and lastly, LEONARDO DA VINCI.

It is important to note that Pollaiuolo was first apprenticed to a

goldsmith, and attained such proficiency in that craft that he was

employed by Lorenzo Ghiberti in the carving of the gates of the

Baptistry, and subsequently set up a workshop for himself. In

competition with Finiguerra he "executed various stories," says Vasari,

"wherein he fully equalled his competitor in careful execution, while he

surpassed him in beauty of design. The guild of merchants, being

convinced

[Illustration: PLATE II.--SANDRO BOTTICELLI (?)

THE VIRGIN AND CHILD

_National Gallery, London_]

of his ability, resolved to employ him to execute certain stories in

silver for the altar of San Giovanni, and he performed them so

excellently that they were acknowledged to be the best of all those

previously executed by various masters.... In other churches also in

Florence and Rome, and other parts of Italy, his miraculous enamels are

to be seen."

Now whether or not Antonio, like others, continued to exercise this

craft, the account given by Vasari, as follows, of his learning to paint

is extremely significant as showing how painting was regarded in

relation to the kindred arts so widely practised in

Florence:--"Eventually, considering that this craft did not secure a

long life to the work of its masters, Antonio, desiring for his labours

a more enduring memory, resolved to devote himself to it no longer; and

his brother Piero being a painter, he joined himself to him for the

purpose of learning the modes of proceeding in painting. He then found

this to be an art so different from that of the goldsmith that he wished

he had never addressed himself to it. But being impelled by shame rather

than any advantage to be obtained, he acquired a knowledge of the

processes used in painting in the course of a few months, and became an

excellent master."

As early as 1460 he had painted the three large canvases of _Hercules_

for Lorenzo de'Medici, now no longer existing, but probably reflected in

the two small panels of the same subject in the Uffizi. These alone are

enough to mark him as one of the greatest artists of his time. The

magnificent _David_, at Berlin, soon followed, and the little _Daphne

and Apollo_ in our National Gallery. These were all accomplished

unaided, but a little later he worked in concert with his brother Piero,

to whom we are told to attribute parts of the painting of the large _S.

Sebastian_ in the National Gallery, painted in 1475 for Antonio Pucci,

from whose descendant it was purchased. "For the chapel of the Pucci in

the church of San Sebastian," says Vasari, "Antonio painted the

altar-piece--a remarkable and wonderfully executed work with numerous

horses, many nude figures, and singularly beautiful foreshortenings.

Also the portrait of S. Sebastian taken from life, that is to say, from

Gino di Ludovico Capponi. This picture has been more extolled than any

by Antonio. He has evidently copied nature to the utmost of his power,

as we see more especially in one of the archers, who, bending towards

the ground, and resting his bow against his breast, is employing all his

force to prepare it for action; the veins are swelling, the muscles

strained, and the man holds his breath as he applies all his strength to

the effort. All the other figures in the diversity of their attitudes

clearly prove the artist's ability and the labour he has bestowed on the

work."

It is in his superb rendering of the figure, especially in the nude,

that Antonio Pollaiuolo marks a decisive step in the progress of

painting, and is entitled to be regarded as "the first modern artist to

master expression of the human form, its spirit, and its action." But

for him we should miss much of the strength and vigour that

distinguishes the real from the false Botticelli.

"In the same time with the illustrious Lorenzo de Medici, the elder,"

Vasari writes, "which was truly an age of gold for men of talent, there

flourished a certain Alessandro, called after our custom Sandro, and

further named di Botticello, for a reason which we shall presently see.

His father, Mariano Filipepi, a Florentine citizen, brought him up with

care; but although the boy readily acquired whatever he had a mind to

learn,

[Illustration: PLATE III.--SANDRO BOTTICELLI

PORTRAIT OF A YOUNG MAN

_National Gallery, London_]

yet he was always discontented, nor would he take any pleasure in

reading, writing, or accounts; so that his father turned him over in

despair to a friend of his called Botticello, who was a goldsmith.

"There was at that time a close connection and almost constant

intercourse between the goldsmiths and the painters, wherefore Sandro,

who had remarkable talent and was strongly disposed to the arts of

design, became enamoured of painting and resolved to devote himself

entirely to that vocation. He acknowledged his purpose forthwith to his

father, who accordingly took him to Fra Filippo. Devoting himself

entirely to the vocation he had chosen, Sandro so closely followed the

directions and imitated the manner of his master, that Filippo conceived

a great love for him, and instructed him so effectually that Sandro

rapidly attained a degree in art that none could have predicted for

him."

The influence of the Giottesque tradition which was thus handed on to

the youthful Botticelli by Filippo Lippi is traceable in the beautiful

little _Adoration of the Magi_--the oblong, not the _tondo_--in the

National Gallery (No. 592). This was formerly attributed to Filippino

Lippi, but is now universally recognised as one of Sandro's very

earliest productions, when still under the immediate influence of

Filippo, and prior to the _Fortitude_, painted before 1470, which is now

in the Uffizi, and is the first picture mentioned by Vasari,

thus--"While still a youth he painted the figure of Fortitude among

those pictures of the virtues which Antonio and Pietro Pollaiuolo were

executing in the Mercatanzia or Tribunal of Commerce in Florence. In

Santo Spirito (Vasari continues, naming a picture which is probably _The

Virgin Enthroned_, now at Berlin (No. 106)), he painted a picture for

the Bardi family; this work he executed with great diligence, and

finished it very successfully, depicting the olive and palm trees with

extraordinary care."

The influence of Pollaiuolo is more evident in his two next productions,

the two small panels of _Holofernes_ and the _Portrait of a Man with a

Medal_, in the Uffizi, and again in the _S. Sebastian_ now at Berlin,

which was painted in 1473.

About 1476 the second _Adoration of the Magi_ in the National Gallery

was painted, and a year or two later the famous and more splendid

picture of the same subject which is in the Uffizi. With this he

established his reputation, showing himself unmistakably as an artist of

profound feeling and noble character besides being a skilful painter. It

was commissioned for the church of Santa Maria Novella. "In the face of

the oldest of the kings," says Vasari, "there is the most lively

expression of tenderness as he kisses the foot of the Saviour, and of

satisfaction at the attainment of the purpose for which he had

undertaken his long journey. This figure is the portrait of Cosimo

de'Medici, the most faithful and animated likeness of all now known of

him. The second of the kings is the portrait of Giuliano de' Medici,

father of Pope Clement VII., and he is presenting his gift with an

expression of the most devout sincerity. The third, who is likewise

kneeling, seems to be offering thanksgiving as well as adoration; this

is the likeness of Giovanni, the son of Cosimo.

"The beauty which Sandro has imparted to these heads cannot be

adequately described; all the figures are in different attitudes, some

seen full face, others in profile, some almost entirely turned away,

others bent down; and to all the artist has given an appropriate

expression, whether old or young, showing numerous peculiarities, which

prove the mastery he possessed over his art. He has even distinguished

the followers of each king, so that one can see which belong to one and

which to another. It is indeed a most wonderful work; the composition,

the colouring, and the design are so beautiful that every artist to-day

is amazed at it, and at the time it acquired so great a fame for Sandro

that Pope Sixtus IV. appointed him superintendent of the painting of the

chapel he had built in Rome."

The visit to Rome was in 1481, and meantime Botticelli had produced the

wayward _Primavera_, and the more stern and harsh _S. Augustine_ in the

church of Ognissanti. Of his frescoes in the Pope's chapel nearly all

have survived, including _Moses slaying the Egyptian_, _The Temptation_,

and _The Destruction of Korah's Company_, besides such of the heads of

the Popes as were not painted by Domenico Ghirlandaio and his other

assistants in the work.

Returning to Florence in 1482, he was for twenty years without a rival

in the city--after the departure of Leonardo to Milan--and he appears to

have been subjected to no new influences, but steadily to have developed

the immense forces within him. Before 1492 may be dated the two examples

in the National Gallery, the _Portrait of a Youth_ and the fascinating

_Mars and Venus_, which was probably intended as a decoration for some

large piece of furniture. The beautiful and extraordinarily life-like

frescoes in the Louvre (the only recognised works of the master in that

Gallery) from the Villa Lemmi, representing Giovanna Tornabuoni with

Venus and the Graces, and Lorenzo Tornabuoni with the Liberal Arts, are

assigned to 1486. Of this period are also the more familiar _Birth of

Venus_; _The Tondo of the Pomegranate_ and the _Annunciation_ in the

Uffizi, and the San Marco altar-piece, the _Coronation of the Virgin_

in the Florence Academy.

To the influence of Savonarola, however great or little that may have

been, is attributed the seriousness of his latest work. Professor Muther

characterises Botticelli as "the Jeremiah of the Renaissance," but

whether or not this is a rhetorical overstatement, the "tendency to

impassioned and feverish action, so evident in the famous _Calumny of

Apelles_, reflects, no doubt, the agitation of his spiritual stress."[1]

This is the latest of Sandro's works which are in public galleries, and

there is every probability that the last years of his life were not very

productive. "This master is said to have had an extraordinary love for

those whom he knew to be zealous students in art," Vasari tells us, "and

is affirmed to have gained considerable sums of money, but being a bad

manager and very careless, all came to nothing. Finally, having become

old, unfit for work, and helpless, he was obliged to go on crutches,

being unable to stand upright, and so died, after long illness and

decrepitude, in his seventy-eighth year. He was buried at Florence, in

the church of Ognissanti in the year 1510."

The large and beautiful _Assumption of the Virgin_, with the circles of

saints and angels, in the National Gallery, which has only of late years

been taken out of the catalogue of Botticelli's works, is now said to

have been executed by his early pupil FRANCESCO BOTTICINI (_c._

1446-1497) in 1470 or thereabouts. "In the church of San Pietro," Vasari

writes of Botticelli, "he executed a picture for Matteo Palmieri, with a

very large number of figures. The subject is the Assumption of our Lady,

and the zones or circles of heaven are

[Illustration: PLATE IV.--SANDRO BOTTICELLI

THE NATIVITY

_National Gallery, London_]

there painted in their order. The patriarchs, prophets, apostles,

evangelists, martyrs, confessors, doctors, virgins, and the hierarchies;

all of which was executed by Sandro according to the design furnished to

him by Matteo, who was a very learned and able man. The whole work was

conducted and finished with the most wonderful skill and care; at the

foot were the portraits of Matteo and his wife kneeling. But although

this picture is exceedingly beautiful, and ought to have put envy to

shame, yet there were certain malevolent and censorious persons who, not

being able to fix any other blame upon it, declared that Matteo and

Sandro had fallen into grievous heresy." It is apparent that the picture

has suffered intentional injury, and it is known that in consequence of

this supposed heresy the altar which it adorned was interdicted and the

picture covered up.

In view of all the circumstances it is certain that it was designed by

Botticelli, and very possibly executed under his immediate supervision

and with some assistance from him. If we do not see the real Botticelli

in it, we see his influence and his power far more clearly than in the

numerous _tondi_ of Madonna and Child that have been assigned to him in

less critical ages than our own. For the real Botticelli was something

very real indeed, and though it was easy enough to imitate his

mannerisms, neither the style nor the spirit of his work were ever

within reach of his closest followers.

V

LEONARDO DA VINCI

Twelve years younger than Botticelli was LEONARDO DA VINCI (1452-1520),

whose career as a painter commenced in the workshop of Andrea

Verrocchio, goldsmith, painter, and sculptor. That so extraordinary a

genius should have fixed upon painting for his means of expression

rather than any of his other natural gifts is the most telling evidence

of the pre-eminence earned for that art by the efforts of those whose

works we have been considering. For once we may go all the way with

Vasari, and accept his estimate of him as even moderate in comparison

with those of modern writers. "The richest gifts," he writes, "are

sometimes showered, as by celestial influence, on human creatures, and

we see beauty, grace, and talent so united in a single person that

whatever the man thus favoured may turn to, his every action is so

divine as to leave all other men far behind him, and to prove that he

has been specially endowed by the hand of God himself, and has not

obtained his pre-eminence by human teaching. This was seen and

acknowledged by all men in the case of Leonardo da Vinci, in whom, to

say nothing of the beauty of his person, which was such that it could

never be sufficiently extolled, there was a grace beyond expression

which was manifested without thought or effort in every act and deed,

and who besides had so rare a gift of talent and ability that to

whatever subject he turned, however difficult, he presently made himself

absolute master of it. Extraordinary strength was in him joined with

remarkable facility, a mind of regal boldness and magnanimous daring.

His gifts were such that his fame extended far and wide, and he was held

in the highest estimation not in his own time only, but also and even to

a greater extent after his death; and this will continue to be in all

succeeding ages. Truly wonderful indeed and divinely gifted was

Leonardo."

To his activities in directions other than painting, I need not allude

except to say that they account in a great measure for the scarcity of

the pictures he has left us, and to emphasise the significance of his

having painted at all. To a man of such supreme genius the circumstances

in which he found himself, rather than any particular technical

facility, determined the course of his career, and in another age and

another country he might have been a Pheidias or a Newton, a Shakespeare

or a Beethoven.

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