During the year 1433, when Florence enjoyed the luxury of driving

Cosimo de' Medici into exile, Donatello went to Rome in order to

advise Simone Ghini about the tomb of Pope Martin V.--_temporum suorum

filicitas_, as the epitaph says.[113] This visit to Rome, which is not

contested, like the visit thirty years earlier, did not last long, and

certainly did not divert Donatello from the line he had struck out. At

this moment the native art of Rome was colourless. A generation later

it became classical, and then lapsed into decadence. The number of

influences at work was far smaller than would at first be imagined. It

is generally assumed that Rome was the home of classical sculpture.

But early in the fifteenth century Rome must have presented a scene of

desolation. The city had long been a quarry. Under Vespasian the

Senate had to pass a decree against the demolition of buildings for

the purpose of getting the stone.[114] Rome was plundered by her

emperors. She was looted by Alaric, Genseric, Wittig and Totila in

days when much of her art remained _in situ_. She was plundered by her

Popes. Statues were used as missiles; her marble was exported all over

the world--to the Cathedrals of Orvieto and Pisa, even to the Abbey

Church of Westminster. Suger, trying to get marble columns for his

church, looked longingly at those in the baths of Diocletian, a

natural and obvious source, though happily he stole them

elsewhere.[115] The vandalism proceeded at an incredible pace. Pius

II. issued a Bull in 1462 to check it; in 1472 Sixtus IV. issued

another. Pius, however, quarried largely between the Capitol and the

Colosseum. The Forum was treated as an ordinary quarry which was let

out on contract, subject to a rental equivalent to one-third of the

output. But in 1433, and still more during the first visit, there was

comparatively little sculpture which would lead Donatello to classical

ideas. Poggio, writing just before Donatello's second visit, says

he sees almost nothing to remind him of the ancient city.[116]

He speaks of a statue with a complete head as if that were very

remarkable--almost the only statue he mentions at all. Ghiberti

describes two or three antique statues with such enthusiasm that one

concludes he was familiar with very few. In fact, before the great

digging movement which enthralled the Renaissance, antique sculpture

was rare. But little of Poggio's collection came from Rome: Even

Lorenzo de' Medici got most of his from the provinces. A century later

Sabba del Castiglione complains of having to buy a Donatello owing to

the difficulty of getting good antiques.[117] Rome had been devastated

by cupidity and neglect as much as by fire and sword. "Ruinarum urbis

Romæ descriptio" is the title of one of Poggio's books. Alberti says

that in his time he had seen 1200 ruined churches in the city.[118]

Bramantino made drawings of some of them.[119] Pirro Ligorio, an

architect of some note, gives his recipe for making lime from antique

statues--so numerous had they become. But much remained buried before

that time, _sotterrate nelle Rovine d'Italia_,[120] and Vasari

explains that Brunellesco was delighted with a classical urn at

Cortona, about which Donatello had told him, because such a thing was

rare in those times, antique objects not having been dug up in such

quantities as during his own day.[121] But the passion for classical

learning developed quickly, and was followed by the desire for

classical art. Dante had scarcely realised the art of antiquity,

though more was extant in 1300 than in 1400. Petrarch, who was more

sympathetic towards it, could scarcely translate an elementary

inscription. From the growing desire for knowledge came the search for

tangible relics: but love of classical art was founded on sentiment

and tradition. As regards the sculptors themselves, their art was less

influenced by antiquity than were the arts of poetry, oratory and

prose. While Rossellino, Desiderio, Verrocchio and Benedetto da Maiano

maintained their individuality, the indigenous literature of Tuscany

waned. Sculpture retained its freedom longer than the literary arts,

and when the latter recovered their national character sculpture

relapsed in their place into classicism. From early times sculptors

had, of course, learned what they could from classical exemplars.

Niccola Pisano copied at least four classical motives. There was no

plagiarism; it was a warm tribute on his part, and at that time a

notable achievement to have copied at all. But the imitation of

antiquity was carried to absurd lengths. Ghiberti, who was a literary

man, says that Andrea Pisano lived in the 410th Olympiad.[122] But

Ghiberti remained a Renaissance sculptor, and his classical

affectation is less noticeable in his statues than in his prose.

Filippo Strozzi went so far as to emancipate his favourite slave, a

"_grande nero_," in his will.[123] But Gothic art died hard. The

earlier creeds of art lingered on in the byways, and the Renaissance

was flourishing long before Gothic ideas had completely perished--that

is to say, Renaissance in its widest meaning, that of reincarnated

love of art and letters: if interpreted narrowly the word loses its

deep significance, for the Renaissance engendered forms which had

never existed before. But it must be remembered that in sculpture

classical ideas preceded classical forms. Averlino, or Filarete, as a

classical whim led him to be called, began the bronze doors of St.

Peter's just before Donatello's visit. They are replete with classical

ideas, ignoble and fantastic, but the art is still Renaissance.

Comparatively little classical art was then visible, and its

infallibility was not accepted until many years later, when Rome was

being ransacked for her hidden store of antiquities. Statues were

exhumed from every heap of ruins, generally in fragments: not a dozen

free-standing marble statues have come down to us in their pristine

condition. The quarrymen were beset by students and collectors anxious

to obtain inscriptions. Traders in forgeries supplied what the diggers

could not produce. Classical art became a fetish.[124] The noble

qualities of antiquity were blighted by the imitators, whose inventive

powers were atrophied, while their skill and knowledge left nothing to

be desired. Excluding the Cosmati, Rome was the mother of no period or

movement of art excepting the Rococo. As for Donatello himself, he was

but slightly influenced by classical motives. His sojourn in Rome was

short, his time fully occupied; he was forty-seven years old and had

long passed the most impressionable years of his life. He was a noted

connoisseur, and on more than one occasion his opinion on a question

of classical art was eagerly sought. But, so far as his own art was

concerned, classical influences count for little. His architectural

ideas were only classical through a Renaissance medium. When a patron

gave him a commission to copy antique gems, he did his task faithfully

enough, but without zest and with no ultimate progress in a similar

direction. When making a portrait he would decorate the sitter's

helmet or breastplate with the cameo which actually adorned it. With

one exception, classical art must be sought in his detail, and only

in the detail of work upon which the patron's advice could be suitably

offered and accepted. Donatello may be compared with the great

sculptors of antiquity, but not to the extent of calling him their

descendant. Raffaelle Mengs was entitled to regret that the other

Raffaelle did not live in the days of Phidias.[125] Flaxman was

justified in expressing his opinion that some of Donatello's work

could be placed beside the best productions of ancient Greece without

discredit.[126] These _obiter dicta_ do not trespass on the domain of

artistic genealogy. But it is inaccurate to say, for instance, that

the St. George is animated by Greek nobility,[127] since in this

statue that quality (whether derived from Gothic or Renaissance

ideals) cannot possibly have come from a classical source.

Baldinucci is on dangerous ground in speaking of Donatello as

"_emulando mirabilmente la perfezione degli antichissimi scultori

greci_"[128]--the writer's acquaintance with archaic Greek sculpture

may well have been small! We need not quarrel with Gori for calling

Donatello the Florentine Praxiteles; but he is grossly misleading in

his statement that Donatello took the greatest pains to copy the art

of the ancients.[129] Donatello may be the mediæval complement of

Phidias, but he is not his artistic offspring.

[Footnote 113: It is a bronze slab, admirably wrought and preserved,

in S. Giovanni Laterano. Were it not for an exuberance of decoration,

one might say that Donatello was responsible for it; the main lines

certainly harmonise with his work. Simone Ghini was mistaken by Vasari

for Donatello's somewhat problematical brother Simone.]

[Footnote 114: See Codex. Just. Leg. 2. Cod. de ædif. privatis. A

similar law at Herculaneum had forbidden people to make more money by

breaking up a house than they paid for the house itself, under penalty

of being fined double the original outlay. This shows the extent of

speculative destruction. Reinesius, "Synt. Inscript. Antiq.," 475, No.

2.]

[Footnote 115: See his Libellus in "Rer. Gall. Script.," xiv. 313.]

[Footnote 116: _Nihil fere recognoscat quod priorem urbem

repræsentet_, in "De Varietate fortunæ urbis Romæ." Nov. Thes. Antiq.

Rom., i. 502.]

[Footnote 117: "Ricordi," 1544. No. 109, p. 51.]

[Footnote 118: Written about 1450. "De re ædificatoria." Paris ed.

1553, p. 165.]

[Footnote 119: _Cf._ Plate 49 in "Le Rovine di Roma." "Tempio

circolare." Written beside it is "_Questo sie uno tempio lo quale e

Atiuero_ (i.e., _che è presso al Tevere_) _dove se chauaue li prede

antigha mente_ (i.e., _si cavavano le pietre anticamente_)."]

[Footnote 120: Vasari, "Proemio," i. 212.]

[Footnote 121: _Cosa allora rara, non essendosi dissotterata quella

abbondanza che si è fatta ne' tempi nostri_, i. 203.]

[Footnote 122: "2nd Commentary," in Vasari, I. xxviii.]

[Footnote 123: Gaye, i. 360.]

[Footnote 124: _Cf._ the action of the Directory in year vi. of the

French Republic. They ordered the statues looted in Italy to be

paraded in Paris--hoping to find the clue to ancient supremacy. Louis

David pointedly observed, "_La vue ... formera peut-être des savans,

des Winckelmann: mais des artistes, non_."]

[Footnote 125: "Works," 1796, i. 151.]

[Footnote 126: "Lectures," 1838, p. 248.]

[Footnote 127: Semper, p. 93.]

[Footnote 128: Ed. 1768, p. 74.]

[Footnote 129: "Donatellus, qui primum omnium vetustis monumentis

mirifice delectatus est, eaque imitari ac probe exprimere in suis

operibus adsidue studuit."--"Dactyliotheca Smithiana," 1768, II. p.

cxxvi.]

* * * * *

[Illustration: _Alinari_

TABERNACLE

ST. PETER'S, ROME]

[Illustration: THE CHARGE TO PETER

LONDON]

[Sidenote: Work at Rome.]

Up till a few years ago the most important work Donatello made in Rome

was unknown. We were aware that he had made a tabernacle, but all

record of it was lost, until Herr Schmarsow identified it in

1886.[130] It was probably made for the Church of Santa Maria della

Febbre,[131] and was transported to St. Peter's when Santa Maria was

converted into a sacristy. The tabernacle is now in the Sacristy of

the Canons, surrounded by sham flowers and tawdry decoration, which

reduce its charms to a minimum. Moreover, the miraculous painting of

the Madonna and Child which fills the centrepiece--having, perhaps,

replaced a metal grille or marble relief, has been so frequently

restored that a discordant element is introduced. The tabernacle is

about six feet high; it is made of rather coarse Travestine marble,

and in several parts shows indications of the hand of an assistant. It

has suffered in removal; there are two places where the work has been

repaired, and the medallion in the lower frieze has been filled with

modern mosaic; otherwise it is in good order. It is essentially an

architectural work, but the number of figures introduced has softened

the hard lines of the construction, giving it plenty of life. Four

little angels, rather stumpy and ill-drawn, are sitting on the

lower plinth. Above them rise the main outer columns which support

the upper portion of the tabernacle, and enclose the central opening,

where the picture is now fixed. At the base of these columns there

are two groups of winged children, three on either side, looking

inwards towards the central feature of the composition. They

bend forward reverently with their hands joined in prayer and

adoration--admirable children, full of shyness and deference. The

upper part of the tabernacle, supported on very plain corbels, is

occupied by a broad relief, at either end of which stand other winged

angels, more boyish and confident than those below. This relief

is, perhaps, Donatello's masterpiece in _stiacciato_. It is the

Entombment, his first presentment of those intensely vivid scenes

which were so often reproduced during his later years. Christ is just

being laid in the tomb by two solemn old men with flowing beards, St.

Joseph and St. Peter. The Virgin kneels as the body is lowered into

the tomb. Behind her is St. Mary Magdalene, her arms extended, her

hair dishevelled; scared by the frenzy of her grief. To the right St.

John turns away with his face buried in his hands. The whole

composition--striking in contrast to the quiet and peaceful figures

below--is treated with caution and reserve. But we detect the germ of

the pulpits of San Lorenzo, where the rough sketch in clay could

transmit all its fire and energy to the finished bronze. In this case

Donatello not only felt the limitations of the marble, but he was not

yet inclined to take the portrayal of tragedy beyond a certain point.

The moderation of this relief entitles it to higher praise than we can

give to some of his later work. The other panel in _stiacciato_ made

about this time belonged to the Salviati family.[132] Technically the

carving is inferior to that in St. Peter's, and it may be that in

certain parts, especially, for instance, round the heads of Christ

and one of the Apostles, the work is unfinished. Christ is seated on

the clouds, treated like those on the Brancacci panel, and hands the

keys to St. Peter. The Apostles stand by, the Virgin kneels in the

foreground, and on the left there are two angels like those on the

tabernacle. Trees are lightly sketched in, and no halos are employed.

The work is disappointing, for it is carved in such extraordinarily

low-relief that parts of it are scarcely recognisable on first

inspection; the marble is also rather defective. As a composition--and

this can best be judged in the photograph--the Charge to Peter is

admirable. The balance is preserved with skill, while the figures are

grouped in a natural and easy fashion. The row of Apostles to the left

shows a rendering of human perspective which Mantegna, who liked to

make his figures contribute to the perspective of the architecture

around them, never surpassed. This panel, in spite of Bocchi's praise,

shares one obvious demerit with the relief in St. Peter's. The Virgin,

who kneels with outstretched hands as she gazes upwards to the Christ,

is almost identical with a figure on the Entombment. She is ugly, with

no redeeming feature. The pose is awkward, the drapery graceless, the

contour thick, and her face, peering out of the thick veil, is

altogether displeasing. One has no right to look for beauty in

Donatello's statues of adults: character is what he gives. But neither

does one expect this kind of vagary. There is great merit in the

plaintive and wistful ugliness of the Zuccone: Here the ugliness is

wanton, and therefore inexcusable. The Crivelli tomb and the Baptist

in San Giovanni Fiorentino have been already described. There were

other products of Donatello's visit to Rome, but they are now lost.

Tradition still maintains that the wooden Baptist in S. Giovanni

Laterano is his work. But it cannot possibly be by him, though it may

be a later copy of a fifteenth-century original. Curiously enough,

there is another Baptist in the same church which is Donatellesque in

character and analogous in some respects to the St. John at Siena,

namely, the large bronze statue signed by Valadier and dated 1772.

Valadier was a professional copyist, some of his work being in the

Louvre. Where he got the design for this Baptist we do not know; but

it is certainly not typical of the late eighteenth century. Titi

mentions a head in Santa Maria Sopra Minerva, and a medallion portrait

of Canon Morosini in Santa Maria Maggiore.[133] Neither of them can be

found.

[Footnote 130: See Schmarsow, p. 32.]

[Footnote 131: See "Arch. Storico dell' Arte," 1888, p. 24.]

[Footnote 132: Victoria and Albert Museum, No. 7629, 1861. Bocchi

says: "_Un quadro di marmo di mano di Donatello di basso relievo: dove

è effigiato quando da le chiavi Cristo a S. Pietro. Estimata molto da

gli artefici questa opera: la quale per invenzione è rara, e per

disegno maravigliosa. Molto è commendata la figura di Cristo, e la

prontezza che si scorge nel S. Pietro. E parimente la Madonna posta in

ginocchione, la quale in atto affetuoso ha sembiante mirabile e

divoto_," p. 372.]

[Footnote 133: "Ammaestramento Utile," 1686, p. 141. "_Una testa nel

deposito a mano destra della Porta Maggiore, è scoltura di Donatello

Fiorentino._" In Chapel of Paul V., Sta. M. Maggiore: "_In terra in

una lapide vi è di profilo la figura del Canonico Morosini, opera di

Donatello famoso scultore e architetto._" _Ibid._ p. 241.]

* * * * *

[Sidenote: The Medici Medallions.]

The Medici did not remain in exile long, and their return to Florence

marks an epoch in the artistic as well as the political history of

Tuscany. From this moment the sway of the private collector and patron

began. Gradually the great churches and corporations ceased giving

orders on the grand scale, for much of the needful decoration was by

then completed. By the middle of the century patronage was almost

wholly vested in the magnates of commerce and politics: if a chapel

were painted or a memorial statue set up, in most cases the artist

worked for the donor, and not for the church authorities. The

monumental type of sculpture became more rare, _bric à brac_ more

common. Well-known men like Donatello received the old kind of

commission to the end of their lives, while younger men, though fully

occupied, were seldom entrusted with comprehensive orders. Even

Michael Angelo was more dependent on the Pope than upon the Church.

Among the earliest commissions given by the Medici after their return

was an order for marble copies of eight antique gems. These were

placed in the courtyard of their Florentine house, now called the

Palazzo Riccardi. They are colossal in size, and represent much labour

and no profit to art. Nothing is more suitably reproduced on a cameo

than a good piece of sculpture; but the engraved gem is the last

source to which sculpture should turn for inspiration. Donatello had

to enlarge what had already been reduced; it was like copying a

corrupt text. The size of these medallions accentuates faults which

were unnoticed in the dainty gem. The intaglio of Diomede and the

Palladium (now in Naples) is too small to show the fault which is so

glaring in the marble relief, where Diomede is in a position which it

is impossible for a human being to maintain. But the relief is

admirably carved: nothing could be better than the straining sinews of

the thigh; and it is of interest as being the only one which is

related to any other work of the sculptor. The head of one of the

angels in the Brancacci Assumption is taken from this Diomede or from

some other version of it. A similar treatment is found in Madame

André's relief of a young warrior. It has been pointed out that some

of the gems from which these medallions were made did not come into

the Medici Collections until many years later.[134] Cosimo may have

owned casts of the originals, or Donatello may have copied them in

Rome, for they belonged at this time to the Papal glyptothek, from

which they were subsequently bought. The subjects of these roundels

are Ulysses and Athena, a faun carrying Bacchus, two incidents of

Bacchus and Ariadne, a centaur, Dædalus and Icarus, a prisoner before

his victor, and the Diomede. Gems became very popular and expensive: a

school of engravers grew up who copied, invented, and forged.

Carpaccio introduced them into his pictures,[135] and Botticelli used

them so freely that they almost became the ruling element of

decoration in the "Calumny." Gems are incidentally introduced in

Donatello's bust of the so-called Young Gattamelata, and on Goliath's

helmet below the Bronze David. The Medusa head occurs on the base of

the Judith, on the Turin Sword hilt, and on the armour of General

Gattamelata. So much of Donatello's work has perished that it is

almost annoying to see how well these Medici medallions are

preserved--the work in which his individuality was allowed little

play, and in which he can have taken no pride.

[Footnote 134: Molinier, "Les Plaquettes," 1886, p. xxvi.]

[Footnote 135: _Cf._ St. Ursula, Accademia, Venice, No. 574.]

* * * * *

[Illustration: _Alinari_

THE BRONZE DAVID

BARGELLO, FLORENCE]

[Sidenote: The Bronze David.]

According to Vasari, the Bronze David was made for Cosimo before the

exile of the Medici, and consequently previous to Donatello's second

journey to Rome. It was removed from the courtyard of the palace to

the Palazzo Pubblico, where it remained for many years. Doni mentions

it as being there in 1549,[136] and soon afterwards it was replaced by

Verrocchio's fountain of the Boy squeezing the Dolphin. It is now in

the Bargello. The base has been lost. Albertini says it was made of

variegated marbles.[137] Vasari says it was a simple column.[138] It

has been suggested that the marble pillar now supporting the Judith

belonged to the David, but the David is even less fitted to this

ill-conceived and pedantic shaft than Judith herself. The David soon

acquired popularity; the French envoy, Pierre de Rohan, wanted a copy

of it. It was certainly a remarkable innovation, being probably the

first free-standing nude statue made in Italy for a thousand years.

There had been countless nude figures in relief, but the David was

intended to be seen from every side of Cosimo's _cortile_. There was

no experimental stage with Donatello; his success was immediate and

indeed conclusive. David is a stripling. He stands over the head of

Goliath, a sword in one hand and a stone in the other, wearing his

helmet, a sort of sun-hat in bronze which is decorated with a chaplet

of leaves; below his feet is a wreath of bay. It is a consistent study

in anatomy. The David is perhaps sixteen years old, agile and supple,

with a hand which is big relative to the forearm, as nature ordains.

The back is bony and rather angular; the torso is brilliantly wrought,

with a purity of outline and a _morbidezza_ which made the artists in

Vasari's time believe the figure had been moulded from life. One might

break the statue into half a dozen pieces, and every fragment would

retain its vitality and significance. The limbs are alert and full of

young strength, with plenty more held in reserve: it is heroic in all

respects except dimension. The face is clear cut, and each feature

is rendered with precision. The expression is one of dreamy

contemplation as he looks downwards on the spoils and proof of

conquest. David hath slain his tens of thousands! Finally the quality

of the statue is enhanced by the care with which the bronze has been

chiselled. Goliath's helmet, and David's greaves, on which the _fleur

de lys florencée_ has been damascened, are decorated with unfailing

tact. The embellishment is in itself a pleasure to the eye, but it is

prudently contained within its legitimate sphere; for Donatello would

not allow the accessory to invade the statue itself, which is the

chief fault of the rival David by Verrocchio. Donatello's statue marks

an epoch in the study of anatomy. It is a genuine interpretation of a

very perfect piece of humanity; but his knowledge compared with that

of his successors was empiric. Leonardo's subtle skill was based upon

dissection. Michael Angelo likewise studied from the human corpse,

distasteful as he found the process. Donatello had no such scientific

training: he had no help from the surgeon or the hospital, hence

mistakes; his doubt, for instance, about the connection between ribs

and pectoral bones was never resolved. But, notwithstanding this lack

of technical data, the Bronze David has a distinction which is absent

in statues made by far more learned men. Donatello's intuition

supplied what one would not willingly exchange for the most exact

science of the specialist. The David was an innovation, but the phrase

must be guarded. It was only an innovation so far as it was a

free-standing study from the nude. Nothing is more misleading than the

commonplace that Christianity was opposed to the representation of the

nude in its proper place. The early Church, no doubt, underwent a

prolonged reaction against all that it might be assumed to connote;

one might collect many quotations from patristic literature to this

effect. But the very articles of the Christian Creed militated against

the ultimate scorn of the human body: the doctrine of the Resurrection

alone was enough to give it more sanctity than could be derived from

all the polytheism of antiquity. The Baptism of Christ, the descent

into Limbo, and the Crucifixion itself, were scenes from which the use

of drapery had to be less or more discarded. The porches and frontals

of Gothic churches abounded in nude statuary, from scenes in the

Garden of Eden down to the Last Judgment. Abuses crept in, of course,

and the Faith protested against them. The advancing standard of

comfort and, no doubt, a steadily deteriorating climate, diminished

the everyday familiarity with undraped limbs. Clothes became numerous

and more normal; the artist came to be regarded as the purveyor of

what had ceased to be of natural occurrence. He was encouraged by the

connoisseur, lay and cleric, who found his literature in antiquity,

and then demanded classical forms in his art. The nude was arbitrarily

employed: there was no biblical authority for a naked David, and

Donatello was therefore among the first to err in this respect. The

taste for this kind of thing sprang from humanism, and throve with

hellenism, till a counter-reaction came suddenly in the sixteenth

century. Michael Angelo was hotly attacked for his excessive study

from the nude as prejudicial to morals.[139] Ammanati wrote an abject

apology to the Accademia del Disegno for the very frank nudity of his

statues.[140] Some of the work of Bandinelli and Bronzino had to be

removed. What was a rational and healthy protest has survived in

grotesque and ill-fitting drapery made of tin--very negation of

propriety. Although needed for biblical imagery, the nude in Italy was

always exotic; in Greece it was indigenous. From the time of Homer

there had been a worship of physical perfection. The Palæstra, the

cultivation of athletics in a nation of soldiers, the religions of the

country, with its favourable atmosphere, climate, and stone, all

combined to make the nude a normal aspect of human life. But it was

not the sole inspiration of their art: in Sparta, where there was most

nude there was least art; in Italy, when there was worst art there was

most nude.

[Footnote 136: "_... una colonna nel mezzo dove è un Davitte di

Donatello dignissimo._" Letter to Alberto Lollio, 17. viii. 1549,

Bottari, iii. 341.]

[Footnote 137: _Giù abasso è Davit di bronzo sopra la colonna fine di

marmo variegato._ "Memoriale."]

[Footnote 138: "Life of Bandinelli," x. 301.]

[Footnote 139: "Due dialogi di Giovanni Andrea Gilio da Fabriano,"

1564; a tiresome and discursive tirade.]

[Footnote 140: 22. viii. 1582. Reprinted in Bottari, ii. 529.]

* * * * *

[Illustration: _Alinari_

CANTORIA

IN OPERA DEL DUOMO, FLORENCE]

[Sidenote: Donatello and Childhood.]

Donatello, by Lord Balcarres · 第 7 / 15 段