CHAPTER VIII

_The Artists of Seville_

BY C. GASQUOINE HARTLEY

'Beauty, like all other qualities presented to human experience, is

relative.'--WALTER PATER.

'The art of Spain was, at the outset, wholly borrowed, and from various

sources: we see heterogeneous, borrowed elements assimilated sometimes

in a greater or less degree, frequently flung together in illogical

confusion, seldom, if ever, fused into a new harmonious whole by that

inner welding fire which is genius; and we see in the sixteenth century

a foreign influence received and borne as a yoke, because no living

generative force was there to throw it off; and finally we meet this

strange freak of nature--a soil without artistic initiative bringing

forth the greatest initiator in modern art--Diego Velazquez.'

These words, which form a portion of the address delivered by the late

Lord Leighton to the students of the Royal Academy Schools, in the year

1889, epitomise the salient points in the artistic history of Seville.

An almost impenetrable gloom shadows the early records of her art. Only

one work remains to testify to the skill of her artists, during the

thirteenth century. This is a rare old Bible, written on vellum and

richly illuminated. It was transcribed for Alfonso, the Wise, by Pedro

de Pampeluna, in the thirteenth century, and its numerous miniatures

represent the pristine efforts of the Sevillian school of painting.

During the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, the artists of Seville

were wholly dominated by the Flemish school. The great master of the Low

Countries, Jan van Eyck, visited the Peninsula, and from that time the

Flemish influence continued to increase in potency. Flemish works of art

were largely imported into Spain, and three Flemish artists, according

to Professor Carl Justi, were employed in the court of Isabella la

Catolica. The Gothic characteristics of the Northern school are manifest

in all the pictures of this period. They may be readily recognised by

their long lean figures, their definite, almost harsh outlines, and

their rich colours, which are frequently embellished with gold.

The pictures painted during these years bear little trace of Italian

influence, although we know that in the year 1466 a Florentine painter,

Dello, who belonged to the school of Giotto, was living in Seville. No

authentic works from his hand remain, but he amassed great wealth, as a

proof of which we are told that he always painted in an apron of stiff

silk brocade.

Many of these paintings, dating to the fourteenth and fifteenth

centuries, bear no signature. They are classified without distinction as

the _Escuela Flamenca_, and the Spaniards apparently regard them with

scant reverence. They are all interesting, while many of them possess

great charm, and reveal well-developed artistic power. The Gothic

influence is dominant, but a distinctly Spanish tendency can frequently

be discerned. Local dress and customs are often depicted, and the

pictures are executed with the relentless vigour, which is the specific

characteristic of the early Spanish school. Examples of these

Hispano-Flemish pictures will be found in the Museo, in the _Cap de

Santa Ana_ and the _Cap de la Antigua_, in the Cathedral, and in many of

the churches.

The earliest Sevillian artist of whom we have any distinctive record is

Juan Sanchez de Castro, who lived in the city from 1454 to 1516. Sir W.

Stirling-Maxwell calls him 'the morning star of the school of

Andalusia.' He quickly absorbed the Flemish influence, and his works are

wholly Gothic, both in conception and manner of treatment. No details of

his life are extant, but the wreckage of time has spared his work, and

we can still study both a fresco and a panel painting executed by his

hand.

In the Church of San Julian, situated in the _plaza_ of that name, is a

giant San Cristobal, painted by Sanchez in 1484. It is executed in

tempera upon the wall of the church, close to the principal entrance.

The figure of the saint is of enormous size, entirely subordinating the

remainder of the composition, thus producing an effect of exaggeration

and lack of proportion. The fresco has unfortunately been repainted, and

little of the old master's work remains, except his signature and the

date 1484.

Of infinitely greater value is his painting on panel, preserved among

the pictures collected by the late Señor D. Manuel López Cepero, which

may now be seen in the house of Murillo, described elsewhere in these

pages. The picture is painted upon a panel of wood, covered with canvas

and carefully prepared plaster, as was the manner of the early masters,

who did none of their work hurriedly, and devoted much time to the

painstaking preparation of their materials. The picture may be regarded

as a typical instance of the Hispano-Flemish manner. The conventional

grief, symbolised by the drooping eyelids, falling tears and set

countenances of the women; the harsh outlines; the extreme length of the

reclining figure of the Christ, all bear the imprint of the Gothic

school. The picture deserves much study. Its decorative proportions,

extreme simplicity and harmony of colour can hardly be praised too

highly. It is a meritorious herald of the work of the Sevillian artists.

Juan Nuñez, the pupil of Sanchez, continued to imitate the manner of his

master. His finest work is a composition, representing the _Piéta_. It

was painted for the Chapter of the Cathedral, during the latter half of

the fifteenth century, and now hangs in the _Sacristía de los Cálices_,

where many of the choicest treasures of art are preserved. The Virgin

supports the dead body of the Christ; St. Michael and St. Vincent are at

her side, while kneeling ecclesiastics pray below. The Flemish manner

still prevails, and the Gothic stiffness of the Saviour's figure bears a

strong resemblance to the work of Sanchez. Cean Bermudez praises the

picture very highly, and states that it is not inferior to Albert Dürer

in colour and arrangement of the drapery. Like many of the early

religious painters, Nuñez appears to have been destitute of a sense of

humour, and in a picture of St. Michael and St. Gabriel, painted for the

Chapter of the Cathedral, he depicted the saints adorned with

gaily-coloured peacocks' wings.

The Hispano-Flemish manner was perfected by Alezo Fernandez, who came

from Córdova, in 1525, to work in Seville Cathedral. Lord Leighton

considers him 'the most conspicuous among the Gothic painters,' and

without doubt, his work marks a further advancement in the development

of the Andalusian school. It bears testimony to advancing knowledge. For

the first time we perceive clearly the growth of a distinctive Spanish

style. The Flemish manner is still strongly visible, but from out of

this eclecticism emerges that forceful effort after truth and natural

expression, which is the conspicuous characteristic of the Spanish

school. His finest picture is the Virgen de la Rosa, in the Church of

Santa Ana, at Triana. The charm of this work is very great. The mellow

splendour of its tones, and the lofty spirit in which it is conceived

render it a study of high merit. Other pictures by this master may be

seen in the Palacio Arzobiscopal, where hang the Conception, the Birth

of the Virgin, and the Purification, three works of great interest; and

in the Church of San Julian, where there is a fine altar-piece. The

figure of San Pedro depicted upon the left of the composition is one of

the ablest; beside him is San Antonio, while San Julian and San Josef

stand upon the left. Over the altar are representations of the

Incarnation and the Crucifixion.

During the opening years of the sixteenth century a new influence from

without was imposed upon the Spanish school of painting. The Italian

Renaissance extended to Spain, and this movement, which in Italy

produced the brilliant group of the _quatrocentisto_, fell upon the

artistic genius of Spain as a deadening blight. It was alien to the

temper of the Spanish nation. The simple, truthful directness of their

early mode was forgotten; gradually their art became steeped in a

hopeless mannerism.

Luis de Vargas, who was born in Seville in 1502, was the first

Andalusian artist, whose work testifies to the Italian influence. He

spent many years studying in Italy. He was a devout Catholic, and like

all the artists of Seville was supported by the munificence of the

Chapter of the Cathedral. Unfortunately his frescoes, upon which his

reputation, according to Cean Bermudez, largely rested, have been almost

entirely obliterated. Dim traces of them may be seen upon the Giralda

Tower, and upon the outer wall which encloses the Court of the Oranges;

but it is impossible to appraise the work of De Vargas from these

time-spoilt relics.

Of his panel paintings only a small number have been preserved. They are

simple, yet powerful in design; the colour is fresh, and the drawing is

good. They are specially noteworthy for the charm with which women are

portrayed, a characteristic unusual among the artists of Spain. The

earliest known work of De Vargas was The Nativity, which was painted for

the Chapter of the Cathedral, in 1555, and placed over the Altar del

Nacimiento, where it still hangs. Sir W. Stirling-Maxwell says that the

figure of the Virgin, as she stands gazing upon her babe, 'bears a

simple dignity not unworthy of Raphael.' The grouping of the figures is

admirable. Notice especially the peasant, as he kneels and offers his

basket of young doves. The care bestowed upon the execution of the

details shows that De Vargas had not yet forgotten the example of the

early masters. The goat, the sheaf of corn, the Spanish pack-saddle, all

the accessories are painted with Flemish accuracy.

The Temporal Generation of our Lord, in the south transept of the

Cathedral, adjacent to the colossal figure of San Cristobal, is

generally considered the masterpiece of Luis de Vargas. It is an

allegorical composition, representing Adam and Eve adoring the infant

Christ, who rests in the arms of the Virgin. The picture is lacking in

charm, but the figures are finely conceived, and executed with power.

Indeed, the life-like drawing of Adam's leg has given the picture its

name of _La Gamba_ (the leg). It is reported that the Italian Perez de

Alesio, the painter of the giant San Cristobal, exclaimed when gazing

upon his handiwork, 'The whole of my figure is of less merit than the

leg of Adam.'

Greater than Luis de Vargas was the Flemish painter Pedro Campaña, who

came to Spain and settled in Seville in the year 1548. He had spent many

years in Italy, studying in Rome, and his pictures bear the impress of

a combined Flemish-Italian influence. He stayed in Seville for

twenty-four years, and is always identified with the artists of

Andalusia. His finest picture, The Descent from the Cross, was painted

for the Church of Santa Cruz in the year he came to Seville, 1548. The

strength and realism of this work are truly majestic. It is, without

doubt, the finest picture painted by the Italian mannerists in Seville.

It exerted great influence upon the artists of a later day. Pacheco

declared that its realism was so overmastering that he did not care to

be left alone with it in the dimly-lighted chapel. Murillo spent long

hours in earnest contemplation of the picture. He was wont to perform

his devotions before it, and once, when asked why he sat watching the

picture so intently, he is reported to have answered, 'I am waiting

until those men have brought the body of our Blessed Lord down the

ladder.' It was beneath this picture that the favourite master of

Seville chose to be buried. The picture now hangs in the _Sacristía

Mayor_ of the Cathedral. It was rescued from the Courts of the Alcázar,

where it had been wantonly flung by the French, during the War of

Independence, and tolerably restored by Joaquin Cortes, in 1882.

Seville contains many other works by the Flemish master. In the _Cap de

Mariscal_, in the Cathedral, is a very beautiful Purification of the

Virgin. The charm and simple grace of the fair-haired maiden, who stands

upon the left of the picture, contrasts vividly with the form of the

beggar beneath. The half-length portraits of the Mariscal Don Pedro

Cabellero and family, which also hang in the chapel, are individual and

life-like. There is little trace of Italian influence in the rendering

of these figures; they are all painted with Flemish carefulness. Other

works of Campaña may be seen in the Church of San Pedro and the Church

of Santa Ana, at Triana. The individuality of Campaña can hardly be too

strongly emphasised. His pictures possess many of the essential and

distinctive attributes, which characterise the work of the greatest of

the Sevillian artists.

Contemporary with Luis de Vargas and Pedro Campaña--the masters of the

early Italian mannerists--worked a group of artists of lesser fame.

Antonio de Arfian, 1537-1587, a native of Triana, painted frescoes for

the parish church of St. Mary Magdalen. Juan Bautista Vasquez, in 1568,

executed an altar-piece for the Church of Our Lady of the Pomegranate,

in the Court of the Oranges; and other works since destroyed, for the

Cathedral. Alonso Vasquez painted many pictures for the Cathedral and

the Convents of St. Francis and St. Paul. The few of these works which

remain may be seen in the Museo, where they hang neglected, fast rotting

in their frames. These artists closely imitated the style of De Vargas.

More individuality is revealed in the works of Pedro Villegas Marmolego,

1520-1597, an artist whose pictures are extremely rare. The Virgin

visiting Elizabeth, which hangs over the _Altar de la Visitación_ in the

Cathedral, is a good example of his work, and displays his charm as a

colourist. The garments of both the Virgin and Elizabeth are beautiful

with radiant harmony. The works of Francesco Frutet--like Campaña a

Flemish artist trained in Italy, who came to Seville, about the year

1548--will be noticed in the account of the Museo.

Another foreigner, who worked in Seville during this period, was

Sturmio, probably a German, who, in 1554, painted nine pictures on panel

for the _Cap de los Evangelistas_, in the Cathedral. These studies are

important, for they afford the earliest instance of the fine brown

tones distinctive of the Sevillian school. The central picture depicts

St. Gregory saying Mass, while around him are grouped the fourteen

evangelists, and the saints of the city. Santas Justa and Rufina, the

holy maids, frequently portrayed by the artists of Seville, are among

the best.

The work of all these artists, who may be classified as the early

Italian mannerists, reveals a distinctive personality. The individuality

of the artist constantly breaks forth, through the strong Italian bias,

while traces are often revealed of the truthful expression of the early

Hispano-Flemish mode.

As the sixteenth century drew to its close, the tendency to adopt a

style of affected mannerism was largely augmented in the work of the

artists of Andalusia, the result being a corresponding loss of national

individuality. All that was essentially Spanish was for the time

forgotten, submerged in an imported Italianism. The pictures of these

later mannerists are dreary and almost entirely without interest. Their

work may be readily identified by the conventional conceptions, the flat

tones, the dry, hard colours, and the utter lack of that element of

charm, so essential to all works of art.

Juan del Castillo, 1584-1640, and Francisco Pacheco, 1571-1654, may be

regarded as types of this phase in the record of Andalusian art. Their

reputation rests largely upon the renown of their pupils. Juan del

Castillo was the master of Murillo and Alonso Cano, and the chief

interests incited by the study of his work, rests in tracing the

influence he may have exercised in moulding the work of the Sevillian

favourite. His best picture is the Assumption, in the Museo, in which

the figure of the Virgin has some merit.

Francisco Pacheco, the father-in-law and devoted teacher of Diego

Velazquez, claims our attention as an individual, rather than as an

artist. He painted innumerable pictures, which may still be viewed in

the Cathedral, the churches and the Museo, but none rise above the level

of mediocrity. They are carefully executed and rarely offend the rules

of drawing, but they are all hopelessly 'mannered,' and entirely devoid

of individual imagination.

We owe a debt of gratitude to Pacheco for his _Arte de la Pintura_, a

treatise upon the principles of art, and the lives of the artists of

Spain, published in Seville in 1649. In style the work is pompous and

prolix, and often very tedious, but as a record of the lives of the

Sevillian artists it possesses great value. Pacheco was the Inquisitor

of Art, or Familiar of the Inquisition. His authority under the Holy

Office was great, and it was his duty to see that no indecorous or

indecent pictures found their way into the churches. Here is a copy of

the commission which was granted to him: 'We give him commission and

charge him henceforward that he take particular care to inspect and

visit all sacred subjects which may stand in shops or in public places;

if he finds anything to object to in these he is to take the picture

before the Lords, the Inquisitors.'

The degraded Italian taste was carried to its uttermost limits by

Herrera El Mozo (the younger), 1622-1625, who, by a strange anomaly, was

the son of the man, who was the first to break completely away from the

trammels of the pseudo-Italian manner. His works may be viewed in the

Cathedral and the Museo; they instance the degradation which had been

brought upon the art of Seville, by the unintelligent adoption of an

alien style.

It is a relief to revert to the work of those men, whose sturdy Spanish

spirits refused to bend beneath the yoke of conventional tradition. The

work of the cleric, Juan de la Roelas, 1560-1625, bears little, or no,

trace of the degenerate pseudo-Italianism, although his pictures are not

exempt from foreign influence. They are Venetian in colour, soft, yet

free, in their drawing. They exhibit many of the features, afterwards

amplified in the work of Murillo. His finest composition is the Death of

San Isidore, in the parish church, dedicated to that saint. The theme of

the picture is the transit of the holy man, Archbishop of Seville,

during Gothic days. Many figures fill the canvas, but with true artistic

unity, the interest is centralised upon the dying saint, who rests upon

the ground, clad in dark mantle and finely-painted pontifical robes.

Subtle discernment is manifested in the grouping of the figures. The

aged fathers are thrown into distinct relief, by the youthful bloom of

the children who kneel beside them. The shadowy forms of the

worshippers, as they kneel in the receding aisles of the church, lend

atmosphere to the study. The heavens are depicted above, and in the

midst of a blaze of glowing light, the Virgin awaits with Christ, the

coming of the saint.

San Santiago, destroying the Moors in the battle of Clavigo, which hangs

in the Cathedral, affords another fine instance of the work of Roelas.

Three more of his pictures may be seen in the University--The Holy

Family, The Nativity, and the Adoration of the Shepherds, while several

hang in the Museo. A figure of a black-robed kneeling saint, in the Holy

Family, is said to be the portrait of Roelas.

Francisco de Herrera, 1575-1656, termed, el Viego (the Elder) to

distinguish him from his son, possessed a character of unusual vigour.

The traditions which have survived, reveal the temper of the man. His

methods were eccentric. He worked with a dashing pencil, and it was his

custom to employ any implement, which presented itself as convenient. It

is reported that upon one occasion, when short of a brush, he painted a

picture with a spoon. His fame induced numerous artists--the young

Velazquez being among them--to seek his studio; but his irascibility was

so great that few of them remained. He broke many a maul-stick across

their shoulders, and frequently he was left without a single pupil to

execute his mandates.

It is said that one day, when this had occurred, he rushed into the

kitchen, and insisted upon the serving-maid becoming his attendant; and

amidst oaths and blows, he forced the trembling girl to prepare a canvas

for the composition he desired to execute. His turbulent spirit led him

into difficulties, and he was accused--whether falsely or not it is now

impossible to say--of coining money. To escape punishment he sought

sanctuary in the College of the Jesuits, where he painted the Legend of

St. Hermingild, now in the Museo. In the year 1624 Philip III. came to

Seville, and visited the college. In common with all the house of

Austria, the King had a fine appreciation of art, and when he saw the

work of Herrera, he at once recognised its merits, and desired to see

the artist. Herrera knelt at the King's feet, and told the reason of his

confinement in the convent. 'What need of silver and gold has a man

gifted with a talent like yours? Go, you are free,' was the answer of

the King.

Such was the nature of the man, whose cogent individuality

re-established a national Spanish style. His pictures are distinguished

for their vigorous force. Sir W. Stirling-Maxwell calls him 'the most

remarkable of the painters, who learnt their art solely in Andalusia';

while Palomino, often termed the Spanish Vasari, says that the boldness

of his manner conveys to his figures the appearance of being painted in

relief. Several of his pictures are now in the Museo; the Cathedral

possesses none, but there is one in the Church of San Bernardo, which,

in spite of dirt and dim lighting, affords a fine instance of the power

of Herrera. In the upper portion the Lord is shown with a band of

attendant angels, while below St. Michael divides the sinful from the

righteous. The canvas is overcrowded; a fault in which the majority of

the compositions of Herrera share, and the form of St. Michael is

somewhat uncouth, but the picture is full of power, and many of the

figures, especially among the hosts of the wicked, are drawn with a fine

freedom of handling.

Francisco de Zurbaran, a peasant, born in Estremadura, in the year 1598,

was the veritable follower of Herrera. His work more fully than that of

any other artist typifies the genius of Spain. Lord Leighton speaks of

him 'as a man of powerful personality, in whom more than any of his

contemporaries, the various essential characteristics of his race were

gathered up--its defiant temper, its dramatic bent, its indifference to

beauty, its love of fact, its imaginative force, its gloomy fervour, its

poetry, in fact, and its prose.'

He was the pupil of Juan de las Roelas, but his work soon eclipsed that

of his master. From the very first he cast from him all mannered

tradition, and determined unflinchingly to follow natural methods. He

copied all objects directly from Nature, and while still a lad working

in the studio of Roelas, he refused to paint drapery, without having it

placed upon a lay figure to represent the living model. He has been

termed the Spanish Caravaggio from his strict adherence to Nature, and

his delight in breadth and strong contrasts of light and shadow. As he

saw Nature thus he painted her, without desire to soften or to

idealise. His one purpose was to portray conscientiously the exact

impression of the objects he beheld. And for this reason he may be

designated the herald of Velazquez. His pictures lack the facility, the

charm and the impelling force of the great master; but in their

adherence to Nature and strict nationality of style they are in nowise

inferior. The Adoration of the Shepherds, the fine picture in our

National Gallery, formerly ascribed to Velazquez, is now held to be the

work of Zurbaran. His colour is above all praise; his tints, although

sombre, have at times, as Sir W. Stirling-Maxwell justly remarks, 'the

depth and brilliancy of Rembrandt.'

His earliest work was a series of pictures, illustrative of the life of

the Apostle Peter, which he painted for the Chapter of the Cathedral.

They may still be inspected in the _Cap de San Pedro_, but unfortunately

the deficiency of light renders it well-nigh impossible to see them.

The celebrated Death of St. Thomas Aquinas, and the remarkable series of

pictures, painted for the Chartreuse monks of Santa Maria de las Cuevas,

are now in the Museo.

For the Church of the Hospital del Sangre he painted eight small

pictures of female saints. They are portraits of the beauties who

reigned in the city during the life of Zurbaran, and are among the most

charming of the pictures of women to be found in Seville. Especially

mark Santa Matilda in her crimson robe, embroidered with gold and

pearls, Santa Dorotea in lilac, and Santa Iñes in purple, and bearing a

lamb in her arms.

The fame of Zurbaran was overshadowed by Murillo, who became the central

figure in the artistic life of Seville, during the latter half of the

seventeenth century.

The position Murillo occupies in the record of Andalusian art is so

significant, that it appears fitting to notice his work, and that of his

brilliant contemporary Velazquez, in a separate chapter; and to conclude

this brief chronicle of the Sevillian artist with two names--Alonso Cano

and Juan de Valdés Leal, the last painters of Andalusia, whose work is

worthy of special note.

Alonso Cano, 1601-1667, was not born in Seville, but came to the city,

when quite young, to receive instruction from Pacheco and Juan de

Castillo. He painted pictures for the Carthusians, and the other

convents and churches, but a duel, fought with a brother artist, in

1639, drove him from the city. The finest instance of his work in

Seville is Our Lady of Bethlehem, in the Cathedral. It was painted in

Malaga for Señor D. Andres Cascentes, who presented it to Seville. The

light is dim, and it can only be seen by the glow from the tapers which

burn upon the altar. It is somewhat conventional in treatment, and bears

distinct traces of Italian mannerism. Yet the picture is not without

charm, and the Spanish national note is not entirely absent. The hands

and feet are painted with extreme care, and the crimson robe and

dark-blue mantle of the Virgin are exquisite in colour. The picture may

be regarded as typical of his work. One of his chief faults was

repetition, and he was frequently accused by his contemporaries of

copying from the works of other masters; a charge which he is said to

have challenged, with the following answer: 'Do the same thing, with the

same effect as I do, and all the world will pardon you.' His power as an

artist has been somewhat over-estimated, and his claim to be called 'the

Michelangelo of Spain' rests solely upon the fact that he was sculptor

and architect as well as painter.

Juan de Valdés Leal, 1630-1691, lived until the time when Andalusian

art was fast approaching its decline. His early life was embittered by

jealousy of Murillo, and much of his energy was expended in useless

quarrels with his brother artists. His pictures are mannered, but the

best are vigorous, and their main defects are due to hasty execution. He

appears to have had no power to finish his work; when he tried to be

careful he became weak. The Museo contains many of his pictures. The

Virgin bestowing the Chasuble on San Ildefonso in the _Cap de San

Francisco_, in the Cathedral, is one of his finest works. The two

pictures in the Hospital de la Caridad were painted to illustrate the

vanity of worldly grandeur. They are theatrical, and have little

'literary' attraction, but the execution exhibits a certain power. In

one of them a hand holds a pair of scales, in which the sins of the

world--represented by bats, peacocks, serpents and other objects--are

weighed against the emblems of Christ's Passion; in the other, which is

the finer composition, Death, with a coffin under one arm, extinguishes

a taper, which lights a table spread with crowns, jewels and all the

gewgaws of earthly pomp. The words _In Ictu Oculi_ circle the gleaming

light of the taper, while upon the ground rests an open coffin, dimly

revealing the corpse within.

It was this picture which caused Murillo to remark that it was something

to be looked at with the nostrils closed. To which rather uncertain

praise Leal is reported to have replied, 'Ah, my compeer, it is not my

fault, you have taken all the sweet fruit out of the basket and left me

only the rotten.'

With the death of Valdés Leal, at the close of the seventeenth century,

the long chain of artists, who had made the name of Seville famous,

terminates. He left behind him no painter of specific merit. The artists

who remained were dreary conventionalists, without originality, mere

copyists of those who had preceded them. The study of their work yields

neither pleasure nor profit. It is better to leave the record of the

artists of Seville, while the memory of her greatest masters is still

vivid, than to trace the slow decay of her art into feeble mediocrity.

* * * * *

_Note._--In order to facilitate the finding of the works of the artists

mentioned in this chapter, this list is appended, naming their chief

pictures, and the places where they may be found.

Artists. Pictures. Where Situated.

Pedrode Pampeluna Illuminated Bible. Library of the Cathedral.

(thirteenth century).

Juan Sanchez de Fresco of San San Julian.

Castro (1454-1516) Cristobal.

" Painting on panel House of Murillo.

of the Entombment.

Juan Nuñez (fifteenth Piéta. Sacristía de los

century). Cálices, Cathedral.

Alezo Fernandez Conception. Palacio Arzobiscopal.

(worked in Seville

about 1508).

" Birth of the Virgin. Ditto.

" Purification. Ditto.

" Virgen de la Rosa. Santa Ana, Triana.

" Altar-piece. San Julian.

Luis de Vargas Frescoes. The Giralda Tower.

(1502-1568). Outer Wall of the

Court of the Oranges.

" The Nativity. Altar del Nacimiento,

Cathedral.

" Temporal Generation Altar de la Gamba,

of Our Lord. Cathedral.

" Portrait of Don Ditto.

Juan de Medina.

Pedro Campaña The Descent from Sacristía Mayor,

(1503-1580). the Cross. Cathedral.

" Purification of the Cap de Mariscal,

Virgin. Cathedral.

" Portraits. Ditto.

" Altar-piece. San Pedro.

" Retablo, with Santa Ana, Triana.

fifteen paintings.

Antonio de Arfian Frescoes on the St. Mary Magdalen,

(1537-1587). History of St. Triana.

George.

Juan Bautista Vasquez Altar-piece. Altar of Our Lady of

(worked in the Pomegranate,

Seville about 1568). Court of the

Oranges.

Alonso Vasquez Various works. Museo.

(_d._ 1648).

Pedro Villegas Virgin visiting Altar de la Visitación,

Marmolego Elizabeth. Cathedral.

(1520-1597).

" Doubtful Works. Museo.

Francesco Frutet Several Works. Museo.

(worked in Seville

about 1548).

Sturmio (worked in St. Gregory saying Cap de los Evangelistas,

Seville about 1554). Mass. Cathedral.

" Evangelists. Ditto.

" Saints. Ditto.

Herrera, el Mozo Several Works. Cathedral.

(1622-1685).

" " Museo.

Juan de las Roelas Martyrdom of St. Museo.

(1560-1625). Andrew.

" Other works. Ditto.

" Death of San San Isidore.

Isidore.

Juan de las Roelas San Santiago. Cap de Santiago,

(1560-1625). Cathedral.

" Holy Family. The University.

" Nativity. Ditto.

" Adoration of the Ditto.

Shepherds.

Herrera, el Viego Legend of St. Museo.

(1576-1656). Herminigild.

" Other works. Ditto.

" St. Michael and the San Bernardo.

Hosts of the Wicked.

Juan de Castillo Assumption. Museo.

(1584-1640).

" Other pictures. Ditto.

" Virgin and Child. House of Murillo.

" Other works. The Churches.

Francisco Pacheco Many works. Museo.

(1571-1654).

" " House of Murillo.

" " Cathedral.

" " Churches.

Francisco de Zurbaran Legend of St. Cap de St. Pedro,

(1598-1661). Pedro. Cathedral.

" Death of St. Museo.

Thomas Aquinas.

" Other works. Ditto.

" Eight Female Hospital del Sangre.

Saints.

Alonso Cano Our Lady of Altar de la Virgin

(1601-1667). Bethlehem. de Belen, Cathedral.

Juan de Valdés Leal San Ildefonso. Cap de St. Francisco,

(1630-1691). Cathedral.

" Pictures illustrating Hospital de la

the vanity Caridad.

of worldly grandeur.

" Many works. Museo.

The Story of Seville · 第 8 / 15 章