ART SINCE THE YEAR 1358
After the departure of the last Venetian Count from Ragusa in 1358,
although Hungarian political supremacy succeeded to that of Venice,
the artistic and civilising influence of the Most Serene Republic
survived, and its impress in the town is unmistakable to this day. The
pointed arches in the Venetian Gothic style, the carved balconies,
the two-light and three-light windows, the general character of the
stonework and sculpture, in spite of certain distinctive features, bear
witness to the strength of Venetian example. Venice was the nearest
centre of civilisation to Ragusa, and the fountain-head of art. In
spite of the jealousy and suspicion which the little Republic always
felt towards its powerful neighbour, many Ragusan artists received
their training in Venice, while many Venetians came to execute work on
the public and private buildings of Ragusa. Venice was not, however,
the only city which thus influenced Ragusa; other Italian towns,
such as Ancona, Florence, Padua, and Naples, contributed towards her
artistic development, in which even Hungary had some small share.
[Illustration: “ÆSCULAPIUS” CAPITAL, RECTOR’S PALACE]
The most important and interesting building in the town is undoubtedly
the Rector’s Palace, which is to Ragusa what the Ducal Palace is to
Venice. It was commenced by architects inspired by Venetian ideas,
and completed by others devoted to Renaissance art. The site of the
existing edifice was originally occupied—in the days when the whole
town was confined to the seaward ridge, and separated from the mainland
by a marshy channel where the Stradone now runs—by a castle as a
defence against the Vlach settlement on the opposite side. When this
was absorbed, and the marshy channel filled in, the castle was enlarged
and strengthened, and later became the seat of the Government and the
residence of the Count. Beyond the fact that it was protected by four
towers,[504] we know nothing about this early building. Already, in
1272, it was spoken of as a very ancient edifice,[505] and in 1349 the
Council decided “quod sala veteris palatii ubi dominus Comes habitat
reaptetur et altius elevetur,”[506] which seems to show that it had
been allowed to fall into disrepair. In 1388 it was demolished, and
on its site the foundations of a larger and more commodious building
were laid. The new palace was not completed until 1420, and of this
also little is known, as fifteen years later a fire destroyed “the
spacious palace of Ragusa, which was in ancient times the castle,
together with certain towers, and nearly all the ammunition and arms
which were kept for the defence of the city and the armament of the
galleys.”[507] “Then the Ragusan Government decided that the Palace
should be rebuilt with more magnificent construction, sparing no
expense, and that the greater part of the former castle which the
fiery flame had not consumed should be levelled with the ground, the
architect being a certain Mastro Onofrio Giordani of La Cava, in the
kingdom of Naples. The walls are made of ashlar stone (De Diversis was
a witness both of the fire and of the reconstruction), finely wrought
and very ornamentally carved, with great vaults resting on tall and
stout columns, which were brought from Curzola.[508] The capitals, or
upper parts of these columns, are carved with great pains. There are
five large entire columns, but two other half-columns, one attached to
one tower, the other to the other; on the first was carved Æsculapius,
the restorer of medical art, at the instigation of that remarkable poet
and most learned man of letters, Niccolò de Lazina (Larina or Laziri),
a noble of Cremona.... For since he knew, and had learned in his
literary studies, that Æsculapius had his origin at Epidaurus, which
is now called Ragusa,[509] he took the greatest pains and trouble that
his image should be carved on the building, and he composed a metrical
epitaph to him, which was fixed in the wall. On a central column of
the entrance to the Palace is seen sculptured the first righteous
judgment of Solomon. In an angle of the principal door is the likeness
of the Rector hearing offences. At the entrance of the Lesser Council,
of which I shall have to speak by-and-by, is a certain sculpture of
Justice holding a scroll, on which is read as follows: “Jussi summa mei
sua vos cuicumque tueri’.”[510]
But even this second palace was destined to suffer a similar fate.
On August 8, 1462, it was destroyed by fire and the explosion of
the powder magazine. Other buildings were also consumed or greatly
damaged, including the Palace of the Grand Council; of the Rector’s
Palace the ground floor alone remained. Steps were at once taken
to repair the damage, for which purpose the celebrated architects
Michelozzo Michelozzi of Florence and Giorgio Orsini of Sebenico were
commissioned. Of Michelozzo, who had been a sculptor and a pupil of
Donatello, Vasari says: “In one thing he surpassed many, and himself
also, namely, that, after Brunelleschi, he was acknowledged the most
able architect of his time, the one who most conveniently ordered
and disposed the accommodation of palaces, convents, and houses, and
the one who showed most judgment in introducing improvements.” He
was at Ragusa in 1463 engaged on the town walls, and in 1464 the
Senate ordered the palace to be rebuilt according to his designs (11th
February). He left Ragusa in June, and was succeeded by Giorgio Orsini
of Sebenico. The latter, a scion of a branch of the great Roman family
of that name, which had settled in Dalmatia before coming to Ragusa,
had helped to rebuild the cathedral of Sebenico. The style of his early
work had been Gothic, but even while at Sebenico he was half converted
to Renaissance ideas.[511] When he came to Ragusa he had adopted them
completely, and his work on the Palace shows no traces of Gothic. Thus
we have parts of the building in the Gothic style by Onofrio, and parts
in that of the Renaissance by Orsini and Michelozzo. The earthquake of
1667 did some damage to the upper story, but it was soon repaired, and
the general character of the structure remains practically unaltered.
The façade consists of two stories, the lower consisting of a loggia
of six round arches between two solid structures, while the upper is
pierced by eight two-light Venetian Gothic windows. The two solid
structures contain windows, and originally supported square towers,
of which only the lower parts remain. The capitals of the columns in
the loggia are partly Gothic and partly Renaissance work, while the
arches which they support are all in the latter style. Examining the
capitals in detail, we find that the elaborate half column adorned with
the figure of Æsculapius is obviously the work of Onofrio, and so are
the other three outer capitals. They are far bolder in design and more
perfect in execution than the three classical ones in the centre.
The Æsculapius is a very interesting piece of work. It represents an
old man seated with an open book in his hand, a number of alembics,
retorts, and other scientific instruments by his side, and two men
standing beyond, one with a fowl in his hand. It is evidently intended
to represent an alchemist or physician giving advice. The capital next
to this one is considered by Jackson to be the finest of all: “The
tender rigidity of the foliage, the delicate pencilling of the fibres,
and the just proportioning of light and shade in this lovely piece of
sculpture can hardly be surpassed.”[512] The columns themselves are all
by Onofrio, and the wall belongs to the same period, as is proved by an
inscription recording the erection of the Palace in 1435.
The three middle capitals, all the heavy abaci, and the round arches
which they support are the work of Orsini. It is extremely probable
that the original arches of Onofrio were pointed, but that they and
the middle capitals were so injured by fire that new ones had to
be provided, and Orsini, wishing to give the building as much of a
Renaissance character as possible, built round arches in the place
of pointed ones. But to do this he had to supply the heavy abaci
which we now see in the place of Onofrio’s shallow ones, so as to
make the arches high enough to support the vaultings. It is curious
that the upper story, above the restored Renaissance arches of the
loggia, should belong to the earlier period. According to Mr. Graham
Jackson, the explanation lies in the fact that in the restoration the
old materials—columns and other adornments—which had fallen without
being hopelessly damaged were used. The capitals of the upper windows
are small, but excellent in design. Their chief _motif_ is foliage
intertwined with faces of human beings and lions. Some of them remind
us distantly of the capitals in the Franciscan cloister, although the
latter are of course of a much earlier date.
[Illustration: SCULPTURED IMPOST, RECTOR’S PALACE]
Within the loggia are various sculptured ornaments. The doorway leading
into the courtyard is decorated with a little scroll of foliage round
the arch, and small half-length human figures. The capitals and
imposts are admirably carved with groups of figures full of movement.
The impost to the right bears on the front face a group of putti or
angels playing various musical instruments, quite in the style of
Michelozzo, while on the return face is a group of armed men. Of the
left-hand impost the front face is adorned with the figures of a man
and woman embracing each other, a boy standing at their side; and the
return face, with a group of dancing figures, one of whom is blowing
a horn—a curious specimen of perspective. The small brackets whence
the vaulting springs are also beautifully carved with groups of men
and animals. The best of these is the one with a shepherd boy and a
dragon, both full of movement and grace, and likewise interesting in
perspective.
All this sculpture is Onofrio’s work, and so is the Porta della Carità
to the right, otherwise called the “Porta è l’Officio del Fondico.”
Here in times of famine the poor received their doles of bread, sold
below cost price or on easy credit. Adjoining is the small door leading
to the hall of the Minor Council on the mezzanine floor. To the right
and left of the main entrance are rows of carved marble benches. The
ones to the right are in double tiers, and here on grand occasions the
Rector would sit with the Minor Council, the Archbishop, and, in later
times, the Imperial Resident. The lower single-tier seats were for the
Grand Council. The whole loggia was known as “sotto i volti.”
The courtyard beyond is a square space surrounded by two tiers of round
arches. The whole effect is graceful, attractive, and airy. Both the
loggie are vaulted, but the arches of the upper story are twice as
numerous as those of the lower. The columns of the latter are of plain
classical design, with carved capitals and shallow abaci, of which
the foliage is so simple as to recall Romanesque work. The arches are
plain and without mouldings. The upper arcade is formed by square piers
of masonry, alternating with twin columns, one behind the other. This
part of the building is the work of Orsini, but on the wall behind
the arcades there are doors and windows in the pointed style of the
earlier edifice. Two open-air staircases lead from the courtyard to the
upper stories. The principal one, to the left of the entrance, is poor
in design, but the general effect is large and stately. The smaller
flight to the right leads to the little terrace on the mezzanine
floor. The latter has low round arches, but the balustrade is adorned
with a Gothic frieze, like that of the seats, “sotto i volti.” At the
head of the stairs is a sculptured capital representing the Rector
administering justice (the officer here is wearing the traditional
_opankas_ or sandals still common in Dalmatia); and opposite is a
symbolical female figure of Justice, the “quædam justitiæ sculptura” of
De Diversis, holding a scroll with the words, “Jussi summa mei,” and
two lions. The draperies are flowing, and not, I venture to think, at
all Düreresque, as Mr. Graham Jackson considers. The two lions’ heads
and part of the scroll-work has been very clumsily restored. This,
again, is Onofrio’s work. In this same loggia is a sculptured group
in a niche representing Samson breaking a column, which is probably
early quattrocento work, or perhaps even of the end of the fourteenth
century. Here and there are other good fragments of carving.
The interior calls for little mention, having been completely restored
and modernised. There is, however, one small room on the ground floor,
with a wooden ceiling charmingly painted with arabesque designs
and gilding, dating, I should imagine, from the sixteenth or early
seventeenth century. Below the small loggia is the entrance to the
state prisons, very gloomy dungeons indeed, in some of which prisoners
were walled up alive. But the worst cells are those under the theatre—a
strange contrast; they are below the level of the sea, and flooded at
high tide.
On the whole, the Rector’s Palace is the most interesting and beautiful
building in Dalmatia, with the exception perhaps of the Romanesque
cathedral of Traù. Its graceful design, its perfect proportions, and
its many charming details of stone work make of it a worthy rival of
many of the famous _palazzi pubblici_ of the Italian towns. It bears
a strong analogy to the Loggia dei Mercanti at Ancona, on which some
of the same artists were employed. The sculptures, however, labour
under one disadvantage, viz. they are carved out of poor material. The
Curzola stone, which is admirable for building purposes, for columns,
and plain adornments, is not quite hard enough for elaborate sculpture,
so that although the designs of the artists may be admirable, the
result has sometimes a rough and unfinished appearance. It would form
an interesting speculation to study what effect the nature of the
material had on the artist. At Ragusa one certainly longs for the
accurate and finished work of the Florentines. But nevertheless the
Palace of Ragusa is in its way a little masterpiece.
[Illustration: SCULPTURED BRACKET, RECTOR’S PALACE]
During the Renaissance period a number of new churches and chapels were
built at Ragusa, the majority of them quite small. The most beautiful
of these is the votive church of San Salvatore, built to commemorate
the earthquake of 1520. “This shock caused much spiritual benefit, for
many people confessed their sins, and said prayers, and gave alms. Each
Sunday the Government with all the people went in procession to implore
the Divine mercy, and vowed to build a church in honour of the Saviour,
on which it was decided to spend 1500 ducats.... For the building of
it Messer Daniele di Resti, Messer Damiano di Menze, and Messer Giunio
di Sorgo were appointed Provveditori. These nobles raised the cost to
more than 2500 ducats, and the building proceeded so slowly that it
was not finished for ten years.”[513] It is said that noble matrons
went barefoot carrying materials for the building, but the three noble
Provveditori employed the masons for their own private houses as well,
and this caused the delay. The façade is a simple but very beautiful
specimen of Renaissance architecture, recalling that of the Lombardis’
church of the Madonna dei Miracoli in Venice. Both the façade and
the roof are built in the same manner as those of the cathedral of
Sebenico. The interior consists of a nave and rounded apse, divided
into three bays by classic pilasters. There are some traces of Gothic
in the vaulting and narrow side windows adorned with plain tracery. The
cornice is arcaded, but each arch contains a Renaissance shell.[514]
With regard to the authorship of the building, the acts of the Grand
Council mention architects summoned from Italy in 1520, whose names,
however, are not given, and one Paduan working at Sebenico. The latter
seems to have been Bartolommeo da Mestre, described in the deeds of a
Sebenico notary as “protomagister fabricæ Sancti Jacobi,” who was in
that town between 1517 and 1525, but absent at Ragusa in 1520. This
would explain the similar roof construction in the two churches.[515]
Among the other chapels, that of the Santissima Annunziata deserves
mention. The front is unadorned, but in the tympanum of the Gothic
doorway is a group of three figures in high relief, representing St.
John the Baptist and two other saints. There is much dignity about the
figures, but the execution as usual is somewhat rough. This chapel and
the one next to it, from which it is separated by a wall space with a
rectangular sixteenth-century doorway, are almost under the lee of the
town walls, which at this point make an abrupt outward curve, so as to
include the Dominican monastery.
Close by is the church of St. Luke, with some good Renaissance
decorations and an elaborate tympanum. More important is the church of
the Confraternità del Rosario, now desecrated and used as a military
storehouse. The interior consists of two naves with a colonnade of
three arches, and a low, dark story above. The capitals are of a
handsome classical design with good mouldings, but the proportions are
bad, the church being much too high for its length.
In the upper part of the town is the interesting little chapel of
the Sicurata or Transfigurata, its façade on a tiny piazza, almost
a courtyard. To reach it one passes under an old archway with a
fig-tree growing out of it. It contains one or two curious paintings.
San Niccolò in Prijeki, at the end of the street of that name, has
a Renaissance doorway with Ionic columns and a classical pediment,
the adornments being very pure and sober; the rosette window is of a
wheel pattern common at Ragusa. The belfry is adorned with excellent
mouldings and a twisted stringcourse. The date 1607 over the door
refers to the restoration, the building being at least eighty or a
hundred years older, while the little figure over the door is still
more ancient.
Outside the walls, a few minutes from the Porta Pile, is the tiny
Chiesa alle Dance, on a rocky beach by the sea, commenced in 1457 as a
chapel for the cemetery of the poor, as is attested by the following
inscription:—
DIVÆ MARIÆ VIRGINI
S.C. DECRETO AD PAUPERIEM SEPUL.
EX ÆR. PUB. DOTIBUS
VIII IDUS. DECEMRIS. M.CCCCLVII
D.
The west door is a handsome piece of Venetian Gothic with mouldings
and a sculptured group of the Virgin and Child in the tympanum. To the
right is another group on a font. In the front of the church a platform
spreads out, where a portico must formerly have been, as there are the
bases of six large piers.
Of the lay buildings in Ragusa besides the Rector’s Palace we may
mention the clock-tower in the Piazza, and the fountain at the Porta
Pile. The latter was built by Onofrio of La Cava on the completion of
his great aqueduct, and bears the following inscription:—
P. ONOFRIO I. F. ONOSIPHORO
PARTHENOPEO EGREGIO N. I.
ARCHTITECTO
MUNICIPES.
The story of this aqueduct is rather curious. In previous times
the city was supplied with water from cisterns, but in 1437 the
Government decided to seek for springs in the Gionchetto hills, and
invited Onofrio, who was as excellent a hydraulic engineer as he was
an architect, to construct it. The sum of 8000 ducats was devoted to
the purpose, but before its completion 12,000 were spent. The people
began to say that the enterprise such as Onofrio had designed it was
impossible, and he was summoned before the magistrates as an impostor.
But the evidence of the experts proved favourable to him, and he
succeeded in completing the work in the prescribed time. Nothing
remained now to be done but to erect a fountain, and the funds were
provided by public subscription. Of this monument only the polygonal
basin and a few columns and heads remain. The twelve bas-reliefs of
the constellations were destroyed by the earthquake, and so with one
exception were the figures of animals round the cornice. Another
fountain, also by Onofrio, is the very handsome one in the Piazza,
decorated with putti and shells.
There are a few private houses at Ragusa of architectural pretensions.
Those of the Stradone were, as I have said, destroyed by the
earthquake; but in the Prijeki, a street parallel to the Stradone,
on the slope of the Monte Sergio, there are several picturesque old
palaces. This thoroughfare is very narrow, and the houses are of great
height; many of them are adorned with charming Venetian balconies and
fragments of sculpture. The general prospect of this dark, narrow
street, lit up here and there by patches of brilliant sunlight, showing
some vine pergola clinging on to a broad balcony, or a many-light
window in the purest Venetian style, is most striking. One might
imagine oneself in Venice, until a side street leading up a steep
hillside tells us that we are not in the city of the lagoons. The most
remarkable of these houses is the one numbered 170, which has a fine
doorway, with a rectangular entablature enclosing a pointed arch. In
the corners thus formed are two centaurs, very spirited and full of
movement, though not quite perfect in drawing. The balcony above,
which is exceptionally wide in proportion to its length, is supported
by three carved brackets. The beautiful little balcony with marble
colonnade on the palace numbered 316 is a veritable gem of Venetian
work. On several other houses there are similar fragments, and others
are to be found elsewhere in the town, especially in the streets near
the Duomo. The Stradone itself is an attractive thoroughfare, broad,
airy, and full of sun. The houses are plain and unadorned, but the
rich yellow hue of the Curzola stone of which they are built give them
a harmonious appearance. The shops to this day are mostly of a very
Eastern appearance, the door and window being formed of a single round
arch partly divided by a stone counter which cuts half-way across the
opening.
A conspicuous architectural feature of the city is its defences. The
town walls form a most perfect circuit, of a beauty and completeness
rarely surpassed, even in Italy. From whichever side we approach
Ragusa, whether from the sea or by the land gates, we are confronted
by an imposing mass of battlemented towers, solid bastions, thick
walls and escarpments, which conceal the whole town save the steeples
and one or two churches. Few cities present such a perfect picture of
a mediæval fortress, and few form so fair a picture—this cluster of
fine buildings on steep precipitous rocks rising sheer up out of the
azure sea, with the exquisite purple hues of the Dalmatian mountains in
the background, and the bright patches of rich vegetation all around.
Rarely does one see so admirable a combination of strength and beauty.
The walls are pierced by three gates—the Porta Pile, the Porta Ploce,
and the sea gate. At the Porta Pile there is a double circuit of walls;
the outer gate is a round arch in a semicircular outwork, with gun
embrasures on either side. To the right the walls extend seawards to
a massive round bastion, and then up the rocky ridge; to the left
they ascend the steep hillside to the graceful Torre Menze or Minćeta.
On entering this gate the road descends, making a sharp curve, passes
under a second arch, and opens out into the Stradone. This leads
straight to the Piazza, where the chief public buildings stand. We pass
under another arch below the clock tower, and reach the Porta Ploce.
This too is approached by a winding road passing over two bridges, one
of which was formerly a drawbridge, and under several more arches. The
solid mass of the Dominican church and monastery formed part of the
defence works. From the road between the Piazza and the Porta Ploce the
gate opens out on to the quays of the harbour. The latter is small,
and incapable of sheltering large modern steamers, which now always
put in at the ample port of Gravosa; but it was quite sufficient for
the famous “argosies” which visited every known sea during the heyday
of the Republic. It is protected by the huge mass of the Forte Molo
and other towers, while the pier built by Pasquale di Michele juts
out into the sea. Large walled-up arches led to the shelters for the
galleys—“arsenatus galearum domus, in qua triremes pulchræ et biremes
resident, quibus armatis, cum opus fuerit, utuntur Ragusini.”[516]
[Illustration: CHURCH OF THE CONFRATERNITY OF THE ROSARY]
In other parts of the Republic’s territory some few buildings of
architectural interest survive. At Gravosa there are no churches of
importance, but some fine villas, of which the most remarkable is that
of Count Caboga; in the general style of its architecture it recalls
the loggia of the Rector’s Palace. It was at Gravosa that the nobles
of Ragusa had their _villeggiatura_, and all about among the pleasant
groves of the Lapad promontory or on the banks of the Ombla rose many
a stately pleasure-house, filled with works of art and books, and
surrounded by lovely gardens. Most of them, alas! were plundered and
burnt during the French wars and the Montenegrin invasion, and only a
few now remain. Other more modern ones have sprung up, some inhabited
by the descendants of these same noble families, others by wealthy
merchants who have acquired fortunes in America. The villas among the
hills at Giochetto and Bergato have nearly all been destroyed.
On the Isola di Mezzo there are two castles, several churches and
monasteries, and ruins of other edifices. The principal church is
that of Santa Maria del Biscione, on the south side of the island; it
is a fifteenth-century building, in the Venetian Gothic style, and
contains, among other objects, an altar-piece of quaint design—a group
of wooden, painted figures; according to the local tradition they were
brought by a native of Mezzo from England, where he had bought them
from Henry VIII.’s private chapel, as that monarch, having become a
Protestant, was selling its effects by auction. But Professor Gelcich
gives extracts from local records, proving it to be seventeenth-century
work by one “Magister Urbanus Georgii de Tenum Derfort Banakus
fabrolignarius.”[517] The chancel has a good waggon ceiling of blue
panels, and some handsome stonework. The Dominican church, also in the
Italian Pointed style, is dismantled; its campanile of the fifteenth
century has the “midwall shafts” of the tenth, eleventh, and twelfth
centuries.[518] In the Franciscan monastery, of the same period (1484),
there are some beautiful Gothic choir-stalls, of which Mr. Graham
Jackson remarks that it is interesting to find that even in this late
work the leaves retain “the crisp Byzantine raffling, and are packed
within one another and fluted quite in the ancient manner, while the
little capitals of the elbow posts have still more thoroughly the
look of Byzantine work.”[519] The two castles are little more than
picturesque ruins, and scattered about the islands are the remains of
some eighteen or twenty chapels; in the village several houses that
once belonged to families of position bear traces of carving, Venetian
balconies and windows, and coats-of-arms.
At Stagno there are some interesting fortifications of the fourteenth,
fifteenth, and sixteenth centuries. This position was of great
strategic value, as it is a narrow isthmus connecting the long
peninsula of Sabbioncello with the mainland. A large square castle was
erected at Stagno Grande, looking southwards towards Ragusa, another
with a round tower at Stagno Piccolo, on the north side of the isthmus,
and a third at the top of the hill between the two. Both towns were
surrounded by walls;[520] a long wall goes right across the neck of
land, and another clambers up the hill to the highest of the three
castles and down the other side to Stagno Piccolo. The appearance of
these battlemented walls, with towers at frequent intervals, is most
impressive, and they were a most remarkable piece of work for their
time. They secured Ragusa from attack, whether from the Venetians
at the mouths of the Narenta, or from the Slavonic princelings of
the hinterland, and later from the Turks. Both in Stagno Grande and
in Stagno Piccolo there are some churches and private houses with
architectural decorations. The Franciscan monastery at the former place
has a cloister in the best Dalmatian style, and in a field near the
salt-pans is a small church, which may be of the Romanesque period.
It is obvious that Ragusan architecture was strongly, indeed
prevalently, inspired by Venetian example, both in the work which we
have called Venetian Gothic and in that of the Renaissance period.
Although, as a rule, the earlier artistic forms survived much longer
in Dalmatia than in Italy, the Dalmatians showed what Graham Jackson
calls “a natural and almost precocious liking for the Renaissance
style.” Giorgi Orsini’s work at Sebenico actually preceded that of
Leon Battista Alberti at Rimini by nine years. Another peculiarity
of Ragusan architecture is that the names of so few of the artists
themselves are preserved, and most of those who are remembered were
foreigners. There were doubtless many native artists, but Ragusan
talent seems to have been of a collective rather than an individual
character, and much of the work was probably done by master-masons,
stone-cutters, and similar craftsmen, and may have been the outcome of
the general artistic feeling of the people rather than the conception
of great masters.
In painting the Dalmatians were less conspicuous than in architecture,
and if we except the tradition that Carpaccio was a native of Cattaro,
we know of no great painter of that country. With regard to Ragusa
there are a few specimens of native art, but hardly a record of the
life of any painter. Appendini (ii. p. 170) does not know of any
Ragusan painter earlier than the fifteenth century, but it is probable
that some of the pictures in the Dominican monastery, which are of an
earlier date, are by a native brush. Professor Gelcich mentions a guild
of painters in the sixteenth century with nineteen members, all so poor
that they had to be subsidised by the State. But there is one Ragusan
artist whose works are preserved, and whose name at least is recorded.
This is Niccolò Raguseo, or Nicolaus Ragusinus as he signs himself.
Several of his paintings may be seen in the Dominican monastery and in
the Chiesa alle Dance. In the latter he is represented by a triptych
of very considerable merit, with a predella and a lunette. The middle
panel is a group of the Virgin and Child surrounded by cherubs. The
Madonna wears a red robe with a cloak of rich cloth-of-gold, on which
an elaborate pattern is picked out in dark blue. This design is not
adapted to the folds, but drawn as though on a flat surface. The
Child is holding some fruit; the cherubs have scarlet wings, and in
the background is a gilt nimbus. At the feet of the Virgin kneels the
infant St. John, in whose hands is a scroll with the words:
__
VOX CLAMANTIS IN DESERTO DIRIGITE VIAM DNI.
On the plinth of the throne is another inscription:
M. CCCCC.XVII—MENSIS FEBRVARII——
NICOLVAS—RHAGVSINVS—PINGEBAT.
In the right-hand panel is a St. Martin on horseback cutting off half
his cloak to give to a beggar. He is attired in a green tunic, over
which is a golden coat with a design picked out in red lines; the
cloak which is being cut is of a bright scarlet. In the left-hand
panel we see St. Gregory holding a crucifix in his hand, with a
dove on his shoulder; he is attired in pontifical robes—a richly
embroidered cope of cloth-of-gold adorned with a red pattern, and
figures of saints in niches along the border. Above is a lunette
representing the Crucifixion, with the Virgin, St. Mary Magdalen, St.
John, and other figures at the foot of the Cross, and some cherubs.
The robe of the Virgin is of a rich deep blue, those of the others
red or green. In the background is of gold. The predella is divided
into three panels; in the centre one is a St. George and the Dragon,
very spirited in composition, and quite in Carpaccio’s manner, with a
charming pale blue landscape in the background and a glimpse of the
sea. In the right-hand division we see a saint receiving a mitre from
two bishops, and surrounded by other bishops, monks, choir-boys, &c.
To the left a pope in a golden robe is being crowned by two cardinals;
all round is a host of cardinals, bishops, Dominicans and Franciscans,
and behind a landscape with smaller figures. The faces are all very
pale, and somewhat northern in character, but those of the Virgin and
Child in the principal panel are of great tenderness and feeling.
In the colouring lies the chief merit of the picture; it is indeed
exceptionally rich and brilliant, especially in the robes, which are
characteristic of the painter’s work. The whole is enclosed in a
handsome carved frame, divided by pillars into compartments. The
groundwork of this frame is dark blue, with designs picked out in gold,
and adorned with arabesques of a good Renaissance pattern.
[Illustration: TRIPTYCH BY NICCOLÒ RAGUSEI IN THE DOMINICAN MONASTERY
(_St. John the Baptist, St. Nicholas, St. Stephen, St. Mary Magdalen,
and St. James_)]
On the high altar of this same church is another picture, also
attributed to Raguseo. It contains figures of the Virgin and Child, St.
Nicholas, St. George, St. Blaize, and St. Francis. It is altogether
inferior to the one on the north wall, in a much worse state of
preservation, and almost hidden under silver ornaments, plaques,
ex-votos, and artificial flowers.
In the Dominican church there are quite a number of early pictures,
some of them evidently the work of Raguseo. To the right of the high
altar is a large triptych, with St. Stephen the Protomartyr in the
centre, St. James and St. Mary Magdalen to the right, St. Nicholas and
St. John the Baptist to the left. The St. Stephen is seen absolutely
full face, looking straight out of the picture, with an expression of
calmness and benevolence. The Magdalen has also a very sweet look, and
is beautifully painted. The robes, as in the Dance pictures, are all
very rich and splendid, especially that of St. Stephen, which is of
gold, with the pattern diapered in dark lines and adorned with figures
of saints along the border.
To the left of the high altar is another triptych in the same style:
the Virgin and Child, the former with a lily in her hand and the moon
lying at her feet, surrounded by cherubs, in the centre; St. Paul
and St. Blaize to the right; St. Thomas Aquinas and St. Augustine to
the left. The St. Blaize bears in his hands an interesting model of
Ragusa, in which one can make out three large towers and several small
ones. The gold background has been restored, and is rather too garish.
In a side chapel is yet another Raguseo—a Madonna and Child, supported
by St. Julian, St. James, St. Dominic, and St. Matthew. The drawing
is bold and strong, perhaps more so than in any of the artist’s
other works, and some of the faces, especially that of the Child,
very fascinating: the robes, as usual, are magnificent. That of the
Virgin forms a curiously stiff platform, on which the infant Christ
is standing. Below are two little angels, one holding a lily and the
other roses. In the background is a faint suggestion of landscape.
Unfortunately, the lower part of the picture has been barbarously
mutilated to make room for a window.
These, with the possible exception of one or two more paintings in the
Isola di Mezzo, are the only known works of this artist. Who he was,
what was his story, where he worked, remain a mystery. From the date
on the Dance triptych we learn that he flourished at the beginning
of the sixteenth century, and it is fairly certain that he must have
studied in Italy. His style distinctly shows traces of the influence
of Crivelli’s school, and in this, as in other arts, the Dalmatians
continued to work in the older manner long after it had been abandoned
in Italy. Professor Gelcich doubts if this painter were really a native
of Ragusa at all, arguing that if he had been he would not have called
himself Rhagusinus in his own city. It is of course unusual (though
not unheard of) that an artist should call himself by the name of his
own town while actually living in it; but in this case he may have
done so because the Ragusans were so used to having their pictures
painted by foreigners, that when a native of the town actually painted
them the fact was worthy of being especially recorded. But it is mere
conjecture, as there is no mention of him or of his work in any known
document. Perhaps some day a record of his life may be found in some
forgotten MS., or obscure municipal entry, or in the list of the pupils
of some Venetian master. Professor Eitelberger says that these pictures
“bear some resemblance to certain paintings in the Marca of Ancona; it
is not impossible, however, that even from Apulia some influence may
have reached the Ragusan painters, but we have too little information
to enable us to express an opinion as to the connection between the
Ragusan school and that of Italy.”[521]
Appendini says nothing about Raguseo, although he speaks of some
other native artists whose works are nearly all lost. It will be
sufficient to recall the names of Pietro Grgurić-Ohmučević, who
painted some pictures at Sutjeska[522] and flourished about 1482;
Vincenzo di Lorenzo, who in 1510 decorated a church and monastery at
Trebinje; Biagio Darsa, author of a pictorial globe and some studies of
perspective; and Francesco da Ragusa, one of whose works is said to be
in Rome, and another at Brescia (1600-1620). We may also mention the
handsome altar in the Franciscan sacristy, the work of a painter and
a sculptor, both unknown; it is constructed in the form of a press or
cabinet, and is adorned with some excellent gilt carving and a number
of paintings, of which the most important is a Resurrection of Christ.
Internally it is also painted, but by a later hand.
There are at Ragusa several pictures by foreign painters, but with
few exceptions they are of little merit. The most interesting is
undoubtedly the small triptych in the cathedral by a Flemish artist,
which was carried by the Ragusan ambassadors when they went to
Constantinople with the tribute to the Sultan as a portable altar. The
subject is the Adoration of the Magi. In the centre panel the Virgin
is seated with the Child on her lap: He is kneeling and extending His
right hand to the oldest of the kings, who has placed his sceptre
and gifts at the feet of the Saviour; behind Him is another king
also offering gifts, and through the arches at the back one sees a
landscape. On the left-hand wing stands the third king, a Moor, and
behind him is a group of figures and a landscape. On the right is a
bald-headed man in a rich robe, probably the donor, with a castle
in the background. This work is undoubtedly of the Flemish school,
and, according to Eitelberger,[523] is reminiscent of Memling. “The
technique,” he says, “is extraordinarily careful, and the picture, in
spite of having been damaged by wax candles, is yet so well preserved
that it needs only the hand of a good restorer for it to make a great
impression even on the uninitiated. The head of the Virgin has an
expression of lovingness and purity such as is peculiar to the Flemish
school alone.” As to how it found its way to Ragusa we know nothing.
Eitelberger conjectures that it must have come from Naples, as the
Republic was in constant intercourse with that city, which in its turn
had connections with Flanders, and the Neapolitan painters were greatly
under the influence of Flemish art. But it is quite possible that it
came direct from the Low Countries to Ragusa, where, as we have seen,
there was a colony of Flemish merchants.
Of the other foreign paintings at Ragusa the following deserve
notice: a head of Christ by Pordenone; a head of St. Catherine by
Palma Vecchio; four pictures by Padovanino of second-rate interest;
an Assumption of the Virgin attributed to Titian, but certainly not
genuine, though possibly by a pupil; a spurious Andrea del Sarto,
and an equally spurious Raphael. All these are in the Duomo. In the
Dominican church is a St. Mary Magdalen, attributed to Titian, and
probably that master’s genuine work. One or two more Titians of very
questionable authenticity may be seen at the Isola di Mezzo and at
Cannosa.
A form of art which flourished exceedingly at Ragusa was goldsmith’s
work. The goldsmiths and silversmiths of Dalmatia were famous, and many
of the church treasuries in the country are very rich and splendid.
That of the cathedral of Ragusa is one of the finest, in spite of the
earthquake and the depredations of the freebooters after that calamity.
Its two most interesting pieces, however, are not by natives of Ragusa.
One is an enamelled casket enclosing the skull of St. Blaize. The
groundwork of copper is concealed by twenty-four plaques of metal, on
which enamel and filigree are laid; each of them, save four triangular
plaques on the top, contains a medallion with the head of a saint in
the centre, the name written in Lombardic letters. The surface not
covered by the plaques is filled in with the most delicate enamels
of flowers, fruit, leaves, pearls, insects, and scroll work. This
reliquary is said by Resti to have been brought to Ragusa in 1026, but
Graham Jackson proves it to belong to two widely different periods.
The medallions are Byzantine work of the eleventh or twelfth century,
whereas the intervening scrolls of flowers, &c., are of a much later
date, and, in fact, Jackson discovered the inscription in a corner of
the lower edge: “Fran^{co}. Ferro Venet^o. F. A. 1694.”[524]
Another treasure is the curious silver-gilt basin and ewer attributed
to Giovanni Progonović, a jeweller of the fifteenth century, but more
probably foreign work, as the plate mark—an N within a circle—is not
that of Ragusa.[525] The ewer contains imitations of bunches of dried
leaves and grasses in silver, and the basin is strewn with ferns and
leaves, in the midst of which creep lizards, eels, snakes, and other
animals, all wrought in silver, and enamelled and tinted so as to
deceive one into believing them real. It is an extraordinary piece of
work, but more strange than beautiful. It is probably not older than
the early seventeenth century. There are many other specimens of the
jeweller’s art in this collection, reliquaries, chalices, cups, &c.,
mostly by natives, and some of them very handsome.
The little silver statuette of St. Blaize in the church of that saint
is interesting historically as well as artistically, because the
figure bears a model of the town before the great earthquake. The head
is excellent both in expression and workmanship, and the exquisitely
chased chasuble reminds one of the robes in Raguseo’s paintings. The
original figure is, according to Graham Jackson, as old as the church,
_i.e._ about 1360, but it has been restored at various times. The
mitre, the crook of the pastoral staff, and the dalmatic have been
renewed, while the lower part of the statuette has evidently been cut
away. The model shows us the Ragusa of the fourteenth or fifteenth
century, not very different from that of to-day, save for the Duomo
and the church of San Biagio, which have been rebuilt, and the little
church of the Three Martyrs of Cattaro in the Stradone, which has
disappeared. Many of the houses in that street have gabled fronts and
some have projecting pents to shelter the shops. The Orlando column
supports a huge standard.
At Mezzo is preserved some church plate, of which the most beautiful
piece is a large silver-gilt chalice. On the foot is a figure of St.
Blaize in relief, and on the lower part of the cup are the emblems of
the four Evangelists. The handles are formed by two graceful little
angels poised with one foot on the top and the other hanging in the
air, their hands clinging on to the edge of the cup. The hall-mark—a
bishop’s head—is that of Ragusa, and the chalice is probably Mezzo
work, the island having been famous for its goldsmiths. Many other
specimens of this art exist in the various churches of Ragusa and the
neighbourhood, and some perhaps may be found in those of other parts
of Dalmatia, and in the monasteries of Bosnia, the Herzegovina, and
Albania.