Today was exceptionally chilly—perfect presentation weather! Our first stop was Orsanmichele, the old Florentine grain market. The stone building was constructed in 1290. The name Orsanmichele comes from the Latin term for the garden of St. Michael. The sculptor Arnolfo di Cambio designed the original open Romanesque loggia. In 1380, the open loggia was closed, however, and the second and third levels were added. In addition to expanding the building, the Signoria also granted certain Florentine guilds niches along the outside wall for commissioned statues.
We looked at Nanni di Banco’s Quattro Coronati. The four figures represent ancient Roman stonemasons who were ordered to create an image of Zeus. Because they were Christian and refused to make a pagan image, the Emperor Diocletian had them beheaded. The martyred masons became symbolic heroes of the Italian Renaissance. The stone figures line the curve of the niche. The two figures on the left are carved from one block of marble. Their feet and the drapery of their robes enter the space outside the niche and bring the viewer in. Below, the predella depicts a narrative from a stonemason’s workshop.
Next was Donatello’s St. George. Commissioned by the Armorer’s Guild, it was made between 1415 and 1417. St. George carries a huge shield, an emblem of the guild. The predella depicts St. George slaying the dragon and coming to the rescue of the princess. Donatello’s princess is in classicizing form. The delicately carved architecture behind the figures is an example of Donatello’s signature technique rilievo schiacciato or “squashed relief.”
Ghiberti’s sculptures were also featured. His John the Baptist was commissioned by the Arte de Calimala. Ghiberti rendered the saint’s robes particularly well. The engraved scripture on the trim is of supposed cufic origin, but it has no real meaning. The saint’s carved robes served as advertisement for the wool merchant’s guild and as conspicuous consumption. However, this notion conflicts with John the Baptist’s role as an ascetic who lived a life in penance.
The bronze cast of Christ and Doubting Thomas was made by Andrea del Verrocchio and its frame was made by Donatello. The Mercanzia commissioned this statue in 1430 to replace the statue of St. Louis of Toulouse that had been originally ordered by the pro-papacy Parte Guelfa . The cast depicts the biblical story of Doubting Thomas, who said that he would only believe that Christ had been resurrected if he could touch his wounds. Christ appeared before him and declared that those who had faith in his resurrection without tangible proof would be blessed. Here, the Doubting Thomas can be seen reaching towards Christ’s wound.
We also compared two of Ghiberti’s works, St. Matthew (1422) and St. Stephen (1427-1428). While St Matthew is commonly accepted to be the more harmonious, balanced statue, Ghiberti actually employed a more innovative system of proportions for St. Stephen. St. Matthew, who occupies the first niche to be designed in the Renaissance style, exemplifies the adaptation of ideal Greek Pythagoreo-Platonic numerical ratios such as those in music, to Cennino Cennini’s canon. St. Stephen on the other hand was done according to classical Vitruvian and contemporary Albertian methods. In either case, Ghiberti demonstrates his innovation. The theory that an encounter with Alberti was necessary for the new system of proportions to appear in St. Stephen discounts the artistic intelligence of Ghiberti and perhaps gives credit to Alberti where it is not due.
After examining the niches, we went inside. Orsanmichele served both practical and spiritual purposes. The top two floors of the building made up the granary and the bottom floor was a chapel inside that housed Bernardo Daddi’s Madonna and Child, painted in 1359. It is an immense icon, with elaborate architectonic structure. A specific type of icon called “Madonna de la Grazie” or “Madonna of Thanks”, the icon was said to perform miracles and developed a strong cult following. Also inside the chapel is a beautiful marble sculpture of a specific compositional type, the Anna metterza, which depicts the Madonna and Child with Anne.
Florentines would go to Orsanmichele in order to collect their allotted portions of grain. The building’s structure was designed for this function. Guild members assigned to distribute the grain for that day would drop grain rations down the hollow stone piers of the chapel. The piers were designed like dispensers, with holes at the bottom out of which the grain would flow to be collected. This was a double blind system. The guild workers at the top did not see the citizens at the bottom just as the citizens did not see who was giving them their grain. This anonymity was in place to eliminate corruption and favoritism. Although the plans of the building do not specify hollow arches, we have physical evidence of the system. In fact, a curious Johns Hopkins PhD followed a hunch and looked in the piers and found medieval grains!
After Orsanmichele we visited the Bargello Museum, home of Donatello’s famous David. The suggestive statue invites much speculation about its sexual and political implication. Its date is not known exactly but it was a costly, extravagant commission by the Medici family. David had long been a symbol of Florence because he was an underdog who defeated a formidable foe. Florence, as a small Tuscan town, identified with this victory and took him on as their civic hero. As usual, the Medici’s adopted civic symbols for themselves. This particular version of David is the subject of fascination. For one thing, it is nude. In fact, it is the first freestanding male nude since antiquity. This is significant because at the time, only sinners, demons and pagan gods were depicted in the nude. While the proportions seem odd from head on, the figure rationalizes if looked at from below according to the visual illusion, di sotto in su. The hat is another defining element. On one hand, there are theories that compare it to the hat of Mercury. Other theories assert that is an allusion to the “Florentine vice” the contemporary custom of homosexual flirtation in which one man would try to steal the hat of another young man who captured his fancy. However, David retains his hat so perhaps he has overcome these advances. The third enigmatic element of Donatello’s David is the wing that creeps sensually up David’s leg from the slain Goliath’s helmet and practically caresses his leg. In addition to the feathers of the wing calling attention to his body, the hilt of David’s sword is also seen as a phallic image. Even without the implications of hidden entendre, David exemplifies Donatello’s ability to captivate the viewer.
Recalling to last week’s lecture at the Baptistery, we saw final two competition reliefs by Ghiberti and Brunelleschi. We tested our skills of formal analysis on the spot. Both sculptors use comparably high relief but Ghiberti, the winner, dramatizes his composition by splitting the scene with the jagged cliff receding into space. Brunelleschi’s composition is less daring. Also, Ghiberti’s version of Isaac is a classicizing figure. His defined musculature and his poised stance are that of the classic heroic nude. Ghiberti also uses foreshortening to create the effect of the angel flying out of the scene. Although Ghiberti actually won the competition and went on to make the Baptistery doors, there is still an argument for Brunelleschi’s relief. The angel grasping Abraham’s hand in desperation and the foreshortened, hunched figure jutting out of the foreground are particularly successful elements.
Finally, we looked at two statues of Bacchus, the god of wine, by Michelangelo and Jacopo Sansovino. Michelangelo wanted to fool viewers into thinking that his statue was actually classical so he antiqued the stone and broke off the genitalia. He wanted to prove himself as a counterfeiter and show that his skill was as refined as that of the ancients. Michelangelo also wanted to deliberately break his conceit by breaking off Bacchus’s hand and using a non-antique cup. The hand would have fit perfectly and everyone would have known that it was really he who painted it. With this conceit aside, Michelangelo has sculpted a state of tottering inebriation. The statue works on a basic level of simply showing a drunken figure but it also functions as a symbol of poetic inspiration.
Finally, we looked at two statues of Bacchus, the god of wine, by Michelangelo and Jacopo Sansovino. Michelangelo wanted to fool viewers into thinking that his statue was actually classical so he antiqued the stone and broke off the genitalia. He wanted to prove himself as a counterfeiter and show that his skill was as refined as that of the ancients. Michelangelo also wanted to deliberately break his conceit by breaking off Bacchus’s hand and using a non-antique cup. The hand would have fit perfectly and everyone would have known that it was really he who painted it. With this conceit aside, Michelangelo has sculpted a state of tottering inebriation. The statue works on a basic level of simply showing a drunken figure but it also functions as a symbol of poetic inspiration.
Sansovino’s lithe, graceful Bacchus, on the other hand, is a far cry from Michelangelo’s heavier figure. This anti-heroic version represents a technical feat on the part of Sansovino because he was able to raise the figure’s arm despite the structural weakness of heavy marble. Sansovino had to negotiate ways to maximize extension and minimize damage and his success is evident in the refined lightness of his figure.
Off to Siena tomorrow!
Sarah Barnard
