THE PASTORAL MADONNA.
It was many centuries before art, at first devoted exclusively to
figure painting, turned to the study of natural scenery. Thus it was
that Madonna pictures, of various kinds, had long been established in
popular favor before the idea of a landscape setting was introduced.
We need not look for interesting pictures of this class before the
latter part of the fifteenth century, and it was not until the
sixteenth that the pastoral Madonna, in its highest form, was first
produced. Even then there was no great number which show a really
sympathetic love of nature.
In the ideal pastoral, the landscape entirely fills the picture, and
the figures are, as it were, an integral part of it. Such pictures are
so rare that we write in golden letters the names of the few who have
given us these treasures.
Raphael's justly comes first in the list. His earliest Madonnas show
his love of natural scenery, in the charming glimpses of Umbrian
landscape, which form the background. These are treated, as Müntz
points out, with marked "simplicity of outline and breadth of design."
They are, however, but the beginning of the great things that were to
follow. The young painter's sojourn in Florence witnessed a marvellous
development of his powers. Here he was surrounded by the greatest
artists of his time, and he was quick to absorb into himself something
of excellence from them all. His fertility of production was amazing.
In a period of four years (1504-1508), interrupted by visits to
Perugia and Urbino, he produced about twenty Madonnas, in which we
may trace the new influences affecting him.
Leonardo da Vinci was, doubtless, his greatest inspiration, and it was
from this master-student of nature that the young man learned, with
new enthusiasm, the value of going directly to Nature herself. The
fruit of this new study is a group of lovely pastoral Madonnas, which
are entirely unique as Nature idyls. Three of these are among the
world's great favorites. They are, the Belle Jardinière (The Beautiful
Gardener), of the Louvre Gallery, Paris; the Madonna in Grünen (The
Madonna in the Meadow), in the Belvedere Gallery, Vienna; and the
Cardellino Madonna (The Madonna of the Goldfinch), of the Uffizi,
Florence.
We turn from one to another of these three beautiful pictures, always
in doubt as to which is the greatest. Fortunately, it is a question
which there is no occasion to decide, as every lover of art may be the
happy possessor of all three, in that highest mode of possession
attained by devoted study.
In each one we have the typical Tuscan landscape, filling the whole
picture with its tranquil beauty. The "glad green earth" blossoms with
dainty flowers; the fair blue sky above is reflected in the placid
surface of a lake. From its shores rise gently undulating hills, where
towers show the signs of happy activity. In the foreground of this
peaceful scene sits a beautiful woman with two charming children at
her knee. They belong to the landscape as naturally as the trees and
flowers; they partake of its tranquil, placid happiness.
[Illustration: RAPHAEL.--MADONNA IN THE MEADOW.]
Almost identical in general style of composition, the three pictures
show many points of dissimilarity when we come to a closer study of
the figures. Considered as a type of womanly beauty, the Belle
Jardinière is perhaps the most commonplace of the three Virgins, or,
to put it negatively, the least attractive. She is distinctly of the
peasant class, gentle, amiable, and entirely unassuming. The Madonna
in the Meadow is a maturer woman, more dignified, more beautiful. The
smooth braids of her hair are coiled about the head, accentuating its
lovely outline. The falling mantle reveals the finely modelled
shoulders. The Madonna of the Goldfinch is a still higher type of
loveliness, uniting with gentle dignity a certain delicate, high-bred
grace, which Raphael alone could impart. Her face is charmingly framed
in the soft hair which falls modestly about it. One wonders if any
modern _coiffeur_ could invent so many styles of hair dressing as does
this gifted young painter of the sixteenth century.
Turning from the mother to the children, we find the same general
types repeated in the three pictures, but with some difference of
_motif_. The Christ-child of the Belle Jardinière is looking up fondly
to his mother. In the Vienna picture he is eagerly interested in the
cross which the little St. John gives him. In the Uffizi picture he is
more serious, and strokes the goldfinch with an air of abstraction,
meditating on the holy things his mother has been reading to him.
The arrangement of the three figures is the same in all the pictures,
and is so entirely simple that we forget the greatness of the art. The
Virgin, dominating the composition, brings into unity the two smaller
figures. This unity is somewhat less perfect in the Belle Jardinière,
because the little St. John is almost neglected in the intense
absorption of mother and child in each other.
Once again, in the later days at Rome, Raphael recurred to the
pastoral Madonna type of this Florentine period, and painted the
picture known as the Casa Alba Madonna. We have again the same smiling
landscape and the same charming children, but a Virgin of an
altogether new order. A turbaned Roman beauty of superb, Juno-like
physique, she does not belong to the idyllic character of her
surroundings. It is as if some brilliant exotic had been transplanted
from her native haunts to quiet fields, where hitherto the modest lily
had bloomed alone.
As Raphael's first inspiration for the pastoral Madonna came from the
influence of Leonardo da Vinci, it is of interest to compare his work
with that of the great Lombard himself. Critics tell us that the
Madonna pictures in which he came nearest to his model are the Madonna
in the Meadow and the Holy Family of the Lamb. (Madrid.) These we may
place beside the Madonna of the Rocks, which is the only entirely
authentic Da Vinci Madonna which we have.
It is only the skilled connoisseur who, in travelling from Paris to
Vienna, and from Vienna to Madrid, can hold in memory the qualities of
technique which link together the three pictures; but for general
characteristics of composition, the black and white reproductions may
suffice. Leonardo availed himself of his intimate knowledge of Nature
to choose from her storehouse something which is unique rather than
typical. The rock grotto doubtless has a real counterpart, but we must
go far to find it. In the river, gleaming beyond, we see the painter's
characteristic treatment of water, which Raphael was glad to adopt.
The triangular arrangement of the figures, the relation of the Virgin
to the children, the simple, childish beauty of the latter, and their
attitude towards each other--all these points suggest the source of
Raphael's similar conceptions. The Virgin's hair falls over her
shoulders entirely unbound, in gentle, waving ripples.
[Illustration: LEONARDO DA VINCI.--MADONNA OF THE
ROCKS.]
We do not need to be told, though the historian has taken pains to
record it, that a feature of personal beauty by which Leonardo was
always greatly pleased was "curled and waving hair." We see it in the
first touch of his hand when, as a boy in the workshop of Verrochio,
he painted the wavy-haired angel in his Master's Baptism; and here,
again, in the Virgin, we find it the crowning element of her
mysterious loveliness. We try in vain to penetrate the secret of her
smile,--it is as evasive as it is enchanting. And herein lies the
distinguishing difference between Leonardo and Raphael. The former is
always mysterious and subtle; the latter is always frank and
ingenuous. While both are true interpreters of nature, Leonardo
reveals the rare and inexplicable, Raphael chooses the typical and
familiar. Both are possessed of a strong sense of the harmony of
nature with human life. The smile of the Virgin of the Rocks is a part
of the mystery of her shadowy environment;[2] the serenity of the
Madonna in the Meadow belongs to the atmosphere of the open fields.
[Footnote 2: That the Leonardesque _smile_ requires a Leonardesque
_setting_ is seen, I think, in the pictures by Da Vinci's imitators.
The Madonna by Sodoma, recently added to the Brera Gallery at Milan,
is an example in point. Here the inevitable smile of mystery seems
meaningless in the sunny, open landscape.]
Among others who were affected by the influence of Leonardo--and chief
of the Lombards--was Luini. His pastoral Madonna has, however, little
in common with the landscapes of his master, judging from the lovely
example in the Brera. The group of figures is strikingly suggestive of
Da Vinci, but the quiet, rural pasture in which the Virgin sits is
Luini's own. In the distance is a thick clump of trees, finely drawn
in stem and branch. At one side is a shepherd's hut with a flock of
sheep grazing near. The child Jesus reaches from his mother's lap to
play with the lamb which the little St. John has brought, a _motif_
similar to Raphael's Madrid picture, and perhaps due, in both
painters, to the example of Leonardo.
It is said by the learned that during the period of the Renaissance
the love of nature received an immense impulse from the revival of the
Latin poets, and that this impulse was felt most in the large cities.
In the pictures noted, we have seen its effect in Florentine and
Lombard art; that it was also felt in isolated places, we may see in
some of Correggio's work at Parma, at about the same time. Two, at
least, of his Madonna pictures are as famous for their beautiful
landscapes as for the rare grace and charm of their figures. These are
the kneeling Madonna, of the Uffizi, and "La Zingarella," at Naples.
Both show a perfect adaptation of the surroundings to the spirit of
the scene. In the first it is morning, and the gladness of Nature
reflects the Mother's rapturous joy in her awakening babe. A brilliant
light floods the figures in the foreground and melts across the green
slopes into the hazy distance of the sea-bound horizon. In the second
it is twilight, and a calm stillness broods over all, as under the
feathery palms the Mother bends, watchful, over her little one's
slumbers. Such were the revelations of Nature to the country-bred
painter from the little town of Correggio.
Turning now to Venice for our last examples, we find that the love of
natural scenery was remarkably strong in this city of water and sky,
where the very absence of verdure may have created a homesick longing
for the green fields. It was Venetian art which originated that form
of pastoral Madonna known as the Santa Conversazione. This is usually
a long, narrow picture, showing a group of sacred personages, against
a landscape setting, centering about the Madonna and child. The
composition has none of the formality of the enthroned Madonna. An
underlying unity of purpose and action binds all the figures together
in natural and harmonious relations.
The acknowledged leader of this style of composition--the inventor
indeed, according to many--was Palma Vecchio. It is curious that of a
painter whose works are so widely admired, almost nothing is known.
Even the traditions which once lent color to his life have been
shattered by the ruthless hand of the modern investigator. The span of
his life extended from 1480 to 1528. Thus he came at the beginning of
the century made glorious by Titian, and contributed not a little in
his own way to its glory.
It is supposed that he studied under Giovanni Bellini, and at one time
was a friend and colleague of Lorenzo Lotto. A child of the
mountains--for he was born in Serinalta--he never entirely lost the
influence of his early surroundings.
To the last his figures are grave, vigorous, sometimes almost rude,
partaking of the characteristics of the everlasting hills. Perhaps it
was these traits which made the Santa Conversazione a favorite
composition with him. He has an intense love of Nature in her most
luxuriant mood.
[Illustration: PALMA VECCHIO.--SANTA CONVERSAZIONE.]
For a collection of Palma's pictures, we should choose at least four
to represent his treatment of the Santa Conversazione: those at
Naples, Dresden, Munich, and Vienna. The Naples picture is considered
the most successful of Palma's large pictures of this kind, but it is
not easy for the less critical observer to choose a favorite among the
four. One general formula describes them all: a sunny landscape with
hills clad in their greenest garb; a tree in the foreground, beneath
which sits the Virgin, a comely, country-bred matron, who seems to
have drawn her splendid vigor from the clear, bright air. On her lap
she supports a sprightly little boy, who is the centre of attention.
In the simpler compositions the Madonna is at the left, and at the
right kneel or sit two saints. One is a handsome young rustic, unkempt
and roughly clad, sometimes figuring as St. John the Baptist, and
sometimes as St. Roch. With him is contrasted a beautiful young female
saint, usually St. Catherine. Where the composition includes other
figures, the Virgin is in the centre, with the attendant personages
symmetrically grouped on either side. In the Vienna picture the two
additional figures at the left are the aged St. Celestin and a fine
St. Barbara.
Of all schools of painting, the Venetian is the least translatable
into black and white, so rich in colors is the palette which composed
it. This is especially true of Palma, and to understand aright his
Santa Conversazione, we must read into it the harmony of colors which
it expresses, the chords of blue, red, brown, and green, the
shimmering lights and brilliant atmosphere.
[Illustration: FILIPPINO LIPPI.--MADONNA IN A ROSE
GARDEN.]
The subject of the Santa Conversazione should not be left without a
brief reference to other Venetians, who added to the popularity of
this charming style of picture. Berenson mentions seven by Palma's
pupil, Bonifazio Veronese, and one by his friend, Lorenzo Lotto. Cima,
Cariani, Paris Bordone, and last, but not least, the great Titian,[3]
lent their gifts to the subject, so that we have abundant evidence of
the Venetian love of natural scenery.
It remains to consider one more form of the pastoral Madonna, that
which represents the Virgin and child in "a garden inclosed," in
allusion to the symbolism of Solomon's Song (4:12). The subject is
found among the woodcuts of Albert Dürer, but I have never seen it in
any German painting.
[Footnote 3: See particularly Titian's works in the Louvre, of which
the Vierge au Lapin is an especially charming pastoral.]
In Italian art there are two famous pictures of this class: by
Francia, in the Munich Gallery, and by Filippino Lippi (or so
attributed), in the Pitti, at Florence. In both the _motif_ is the
same: in the foreground, a square inclosure surrounded by a
rose-hedge, with a hilly landscape in the distance; the Virgin
kneeling before her child in the centre. Filippino Lippi's is one of
those pictures whose beauty attracts crowds of admirers to the canvas.
Copyists are kept busy, repeating the composition for eager
purchasers, and it has made its way all over the world. The circle of
graceful angels who, with the boy St. John, join the mother in adoring
the Christ-child, is one of the chief attractions of the picture. It
is a pretty conceit that one of these angels showers rose leaves upon
the babe.
The pastoral Madonna is the sort of picture which can never be
outgrown. The charm of nature is as perennial as is the beauty of
motherhood, and the two are always in harmony. Here, then, is a
proper subject for modern Madonna art, a field which has scarcely
been opened by the artists of our own day. Such pastoral Madonnas as
have been painted within recent years are all more or less artificial
in conception. Compared with the idyllic charm of the sixteenth
century pictures, they seem like pretty scenes in a well-mounted
opera. We are looking for better things.