A Day in Santa Felicità and Palazzo Pitti

On our second to last day of class in Florence, we first began with a short stop to Santa Felicità.  Santa Felicità is one of the oldest churches in Florence, constructed on site in the fourth century.  Right by the church is the Vasari corridor which Cosimo I de' Medici created so that he could walk from Palazzo Pitti to the Uffizi without being scrutinized by the public eye.

Walking into Santa Felicità, on the direct right is the Barbadori chapel which was built in 1435 and created by one of the most popular architects, Brunelleschi.  The original chapel was dedicated to the Annunciation, memorialized by the later fresco on the counterfacade, similar to that in the Basilica della Santissima Annunziata, which we visited a few weeks ago.  However in 1525 when the Cappoli family bought the chapel from the Barbadori, in addition to a new restoration there was a shift in the dedication from the Annunciation to the Pietà.  The new altarpiece was then painted by Pontormo highlighting that Lamentation of Christ; the period of time after the deposition but before the entombment (both of which are depicted in the stained glass window from 1526).  As Campbell tells us, Pontormo focuses on Christ's passion in the most unconventional way.  Out of all the figures within the picture plane, the only two that could be made out are Christ, the Madonna, the other Mary figures, and Nicodemus.  All of the other portraits are thought to be wingless angels, similar to those of Michelangelo.  On the wall facing the inside of the Church is the stained glass window is the fresco of the annunciation.  The altarpiece can be seen as a piece for extended devotion between the two scenes depicted in the stained glass window.

In addition, the placement of the window is significant in relation to the fresco surrounding it.  The window itself and the light passing through it signifies the realization of the incarnation.  These three pieces relate to the cycle of Christ's life as a whole: from his conception to his physical death.  Due to restoration that happened in the eighteenth century, we are unable to see the fresco of God the Father and patriarchs on the walls of the dome.  However, before the pictures were destroyed, the chapel created a union of the holy trinity which is broken up throughout the chapel.

From Santa Felicità, we then strolled down the street to the Palazzo Pitti, constructed by Luca Pitti.  Originally the Palazzo Pitti was the ground and first floors with three doors and four windows.  It was considered the biggest palace in Florence with heavy rustication throughout the facade which gave it a fortress feel.  In 1550 the heirs to the Pitti Palace sold it to the wife of Cosimo I de' Medici and it became the secondary place of residence for the Medici family.  Finally in 1737, the Medici family died out and Palazzo Pitti went through a variety of owners until finally in 1919 when Italy as a unified state acquired it.

Walking into the large palace, the works commissioned by the Medici family still reside because of a law which states that anything of Medici property could not be removed from the country of Italy.  Afterward from Botticelli to Fra Bartolomeo, everyone chose a painting and explained to the class what exactly in the painting drew them to it.  As each person discussed their painting a focus on the symbolism within the picture plane in addition to the changes made in female portraiture. 

Finally, we walked through the exhibition that portrayed the 150th anniversary of Italy's formal unification.  First focusing on Botticelli's Pallas and the Centaur, Minerva, goddess of wisdom, is seen pinching the centaur's head.  This provides a symbolism of virtue over vice and reason over animalistic instinct because centaurs usually represent sensuality in art like Minerva represents wisdom and reason.  The rings on Minerva's dress along with the laurel leaves surrounding her figure demonstrate the Medici commission in a subtle way.

Next to Botticelli's work is Verrocchio's rendition of a sculpture of David.  In comparison to the other Davids we have seen, Verrocchio's is much younger in age and is in an all'antica style based on the pseudo-Roman military outfit he is wearing.  In addition, unlike Donatello's version, David does not have as much interaction with Goliath's head.  Originally the head of Goliath was placed next to David's right foot.

Today's class ended with a discussion of Michelangelo's Brutus, another unfinished work of art.  Brutus is looking away, parallel to the broach on his robe.  The figure of Brutus depicts anti-Medici feelings and was not politically ambiguous.  Therefore owning it would be too politically dangerous because by 1540 the Medici were diffusing back into Florentine politics.  The main reason Brutus was not finished is because owning it would show too strong of a stance with the republic, especially with the Medici coming back to power.

Michelangelo Mania!

Today we continued our tour of Florence by visiting a few of the most highly prized Renaissance works in the city, and even the world. We focused on Michelangelo’s sculptures in the Galleria de la Academia most notably the Slaves, the David, and also his works in the New Sacristy of the Medici Chapel of San Lorenzo.

In the first room in the Academia, we looked at Filippino Lippi & Perugino’s Deposition from the Cross (1503-1507). Laura pointed out to us that this piece is in fact the other side of the high altar piece of Saint Annunziata, a pilgrimage church we saw the first week of our trip. This was considered to be the “good side,” of the altarpiece and faced the congregation. The other side, painted just by Lippi was considered to be old fashioned and thus, it faced the clergy. In this painting, we can see the different hands at work. Lippi painted this piece until his death in 1504, when it was given to Perugino to finish. Lippi painted the two figures closest to the cross, while Perugino, the master out of the two, was responsible for the Virgin Mary and Mary Magdalene and the saint on the right of the composition.

In the corridor leading up the David are a series of five Slaves carved by Michelangelo. They were originally intended for Pope Julius II’s tomb, however the commission fell through when the Pope died before Michelangelo could complete the project. Right after the David was finished in 1506, Pope Julius II, the infamous warrior Pope, commissioned Michelangelo to sculpt a gargantuan, extravagant tomb. The Pope preliminary envisioned a large multi-tiered architectural structure with more than forty life size statues. The Slaves we saw today were meant to be on the bottom tier supporting a ledge of the second tier. As Michelangelo and Pope Julius II worked together, their personalities meshed and tomb project became bigger and more grandiose. Michelangelo believed this commission would be his masterpiece and would confirm his legacy for future generations. Pope Julius II even sought to change the alignment of St Peters Basilica in the Vatican, so that his new tomb by Michelangelo would be aligned with Saint Peter. This was an extremely bold move and was met with a lot of controversy. In the end, the Pope Julius II altered the Basilica drastically, but did not achieve his ultimate goal. During this time he, again, commissioned Michelangelo to fresco the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel in 1508. To the request, Michelangelo famously responded, “ I’m a sculptor, not a painter.” However, from 1508 -1512, Michelangelo followed through with the Pope’s request. By 1512, Pope Julius II was in danger of losing the papacy due to his extravagance and personal ambition. Before the religious council could divest him of the papacy he died. Michelangelo was stripped of the ostentatious commission that would have established his legacy. Pope Julius II’s heirs, the Della Roveres, wanted to keep work on the tomb still going, but not at the level envisioned by the late Pope. The finished product, an extremely toned down version of the original, is now inside the church of Saint Peters in Chains in Rome, instead of Saint Peters Basilica.  

There only remain seven rough, unfinished works all of slaves from the original failed commission. The Academia houses five of the seven, while the last two are in the Louvre. Each is bound not by chains, but by ribbons and depicted nude in contoured, twisted poses of agony. Two leading theories of the symbolism of Michelangelo’s prisoners have been put forth. On one hand, Michelangelo’s biographer believes that they represent the arts bound by the death of Pope Julius II. The arts are in mourning for Michelangelo’s lost and failed commission. On the other hand, Vasari, the prominent court artist for Cosimo Primo, believed that the slaves signified the bound city-states, which Pope Julius II conquered during his reign as Pope.

The unfinished sculptures allow the viewer a sneak peak to Michelangelo’s sculptural technique and methodology. Prior to Michelangelo, a top-down approach was widely employed by sculptors. One can clearly see that the slaves seem to be emerging from the blocks of marble from the front-in and the top-down. This technique allowed Michelangelo to carve quicker, especially with the carving instrument he invented, the bow. Michelangelo also had strong views about the theory of sculpture. To understand this, we must take a deeper look through what Baxandall calls, “period eye.” The Renaissance had different ideas and perceptions of the world. We talked about this in regards to the spirtuelle, widely personified during the Renaissance as putti, which Donatello depicted in a choir balcony in the Opera de Duomo. For this case in particular, Michelangelo and others believed that inside every block of marble was a predetermined sculpture waiting to be released, and it was the artist’s job to liberate it by removing the outer marble skin.

The Figure of Atlas is one of the Slaves. It is considered to be Atlas became of the large chunk of stone still at his shoulders, it suggests that he is carrying the weight of the world.  It is intended as a clear example of Michelangelo’s carving technique of front- in, and top-bottom. By leaving the work unfinished, Michelangelo purposely highlights the artistic process. This aesthetic is also commonly referred to as the non-finito style, as Ting Chang mentioned in her blog yesterday. Ultimately, it is intended to emphasize the artist’s hand. The chisel and hammer marks visible aid in Michelangelo’s self-propagation not only an artist but also a lone genius. He cultivates this idea directly to contrast with his Florentine contemporary, Raphael, who employs a workshop. Raphael worked with a team of artists to produce commissions, while Michelangelo stresses his unique, anti-collaboration style through leaving the statues in a semi-state of completion. In reality, Michelangelo did not work entirely alone. Records provide evidence that the great sculptor employed assistants to polish his works, to grind pigments, and to do other tedious jobs required of the artist. Here, Michelangelo’s non-finito style purposely promotes the myth of the persona of the lone genius.

We finished our tour of the Academia, with discussing one of the most celebrated works form the Renaissance, Michelangelo’s David. The story of the David, starts decades before the Duomo’s commission of the work. Originally, in the 1460s the Florentine cathedral, commissioned a larger than life-size statue to replace where Donatello’s marble David (1408) was supposed to have been situated on top of the building. The commission was given first to a local sculptor Duccio, who ultimately failed. Since Duccio every generation until 1501 had attempted to sculpt a colossus out of the marble.  In the 1460s the sculptor, Agostino got as far as sketching out a figure’s pose and proportions. In 1501, Michelangelo was bequeathed this large marble block and contracted by the Duomo to produce a figure for the top of the Cathedral in two years. Michelangelo produces the masterpiece, the David that we see today, out of the hand-me-down block of marble. He believes he has triumphed by producing this monumental work, paralleling David’s victory over Goliath.  For example, Michelangelo in a poem writes, “David with his sling, and I with my bow, Michelangelo.” He inherently compares his labor on the David with the Biblical miracle story, again propagating a myth around his larger-than-life persona. The Gilbert article, “the Colossus,” Michelangelo’s David is considered a colossus statue, or a large work of art. Standing at seventeen feet high, five feet wide and four feet deep. The Gilbert article emphasized the new obsession with the colossal starting from the 1500 and onwards.

However, once the figure was finished, it was placed in front of the Palazzo Vecchio. From the proportions, it seems as if Michelangelo always intended to have the sculpture viewed from a close angle, and not from up above. This infers that Michelangelo always had political anti-Medici implications when creating on the David. The statue’s privilege point is from the side, where one witnesses the intensity of his face. From its position in the piazza Signoria, the David gazes towards the south, in the direction of the exiled Medici in Rome. Evidence of its politicizing nature can be derived from iconoclasm done to the figure in the 1530s.  During the return of the Medici family to Florence, pro-Medici forces violently attacked the figure and broke off a few toes on its left foot.

 The David prolongs the moment right before David hurls the stone at Goliath paralyzing him. His head and hand are proportionality larger than the rest of his body, highlighting both David’s intellect and physical strength. In the biblical story, he uses his calm control of his body and mind to defeat his foe. The tense instant is forever immortalized in stone is suspenseful and energetic. Michelangelo’s action-filled David differs from other renditions of the statue, which typically depict David with Goliath’s head in triumph. In addition, Michelangelo individualizes his rendition of David by carving his pupils in a heart shape. This is a more subtle reference to the special relationship between David and God. In the Bible, God the father calls David the “man after my own heart,” and his beloved.

The Academia left us hungry for more Michelangelo, so we ventured to the Medici Chapel to the New Sacristy to view Michelangelo’s tomb for members of the Medici family: the Dukes of Urbino and Nemours. Michelangelo entirely designed the space from the architectural to the sculptural elements during the 1520s -1530s before his departure from Florence. The commission was never fully finished, but extremely close to completion; some of the four personifications of the time of day (night, day, dawn and dusk) remain unfinished as well as the statues for the altar. Michelangelo used a classical vocabulary. 

The most notable aspect of the tombs is Michelangelo’s self-portrait as a mask by the personification of Night on the Duke of Nemours’ tomb. Laura mentioned to us that in Italian, the word for mask, larva, has close connotations with a dark sector and frightening spirits. The iconography of the choice of the mask for the self-portrait suggests a false front and disguise. The Paoletti article for today discussed Michelangelo’s use of distorted and contoured self-portraits in his works. For example, other famous self-portraits done by Michelangelo include: the head of Holofernes on the Sistine Chapel ceiling and the skin from St. Bartholomew in the fresco of the Last Judgment also in the Sistine Chapel. Paoletti discusses how Michelangelo chose to depict himself in a grotesque manner rather than in a traditional realistic way. In addition, the mask emblem is a prominent repeating motif throughout the tomb. Laura asked us to look for “mask-like figures,” around the New Sacristy, and much to our surprise we found the ornamentation in the border detail, in the middle of one of the Duke’s breastplates and on top of the engaged column capitals.  

After discussing Michelangelo’s self-portrait, as group we discussed the overall theme of the chapel. We came up with several topics: the cyclic themes of renewal, the Medici promotion of the Golden Age. To elaborate, the story of the Medici Golden Age was a self-produced term that is associated with the prosperity of the rule of Lorenzo the Magnificent. Taken as a whole, the New Sacristy was commissioned to further the Medici propagandistic iconography. However, Michelangelo subtly undermines the intended Medici message. By having the mask emblem so prominent throughout the space, it emphasizes the falseness of the self-imposed tyrants. Michelangelo resists his patrons and Medici dynastic rule in general by undermining their iconography.

Blogger of the Day – Dona Trnovska

Piazza della Signoria, Loggia di Lanzi, and Palazzo Vecchio Ahoy!

The Piazza della Signoria, Loggia di Lanzi, and Palazzo Vecchio.  Photo courtesy of www.italiaabc,it

After a busy weekend sightseeing, our group reconvened for our last week in Florence.  On the agenda for Monday was a square we had passed countless times during our stay, the Piazza della Signoria, as well as the Loggia di Lanzi and a tour inside the Palazzo Vecchio.  The Piazza and attached edifices have a long historic and artistic importance to Florentines, which can still be seen today. 

The seat of civic government, the Piazza was originally home to the powerful Uberti family, who lived in a private Palazzo until tensions between the Guelphs and the Ghibellines came to a head.  The family, who supported the Holy Roman Emperor and was considered part of the Ghibelline faction, was eventually run out of town when the Guelphs, who supported the Pope, came into power.  The civic government, which had been previously located at the Bargello, saw the now-abandoned Palazzo as prime real estate and bought up the surrounding buildings in order to expand the existing Piazza in 1360.  Likewise, the Uberti’s Palazzo was razed, and the Palazzo Vecchio was built on its foundations, though the architects incorporated the tower, which was part of the Uberti’s Palazzo, in the redesign. 

The tower, as we look at it today, is noticeably off-center.  The tower, used for defense and fortification, is a vestige of Medieval Florence.  The Palazzo, when it was built in 1250-1255, was oriented to the north but with its appropriation by the government it was decided that building was to be reoriented to the west, which is how it is seen today. 

Renaissance artists have used the surrounding Piazza as a kind of artistic showroom ­– furthermore, most, if not all, of the sculptures provide political commentary that would have been readily understood by the public at the time.  This political bent is only fitting, as the Palazzo Vecchio (then the Palazzo della Signoria - center of government) was used as a hub of legislative debate during the Republican period, though the public outdoor setting of the attached piazza allowed for artists to showcase new, cutting edge experimentation in their craft. 

Donatello's Marzocco.

The first statue we looked at was a replica of Donatello’s Marzocco, dated to roughly 1410.  This lion, carved from pietra serena, holds a shield emblazoned with a heraldic symbol of the city, a red fleur-de-lis, in its right paw.  The Marzocco replaced an older statue from the 13^th century.  The lion represented Florence as a city and, because the city-state had no monarch present, it also represented the absent ruler.  We saw this kind of substitution in Siena with Ambrogio Lorenzetti’s Allegory of Good and Bad Government in Siena, where Dan and Tom gave their presentation. The figure in Lorenzetti’s work that represents the absent ruler is that of Ben Commune.  Donatello fashions his marble lion as a way of representing the monarchial absence, just as the Sienese artist did with Ben Commune. 

Donatello's Judith and Holofernes.

We then took a look at another of Donatello’s works, the bronze Judith and Holofernes, the replica of which stands in its Signoria location next to the Marzocco in front of the Palazzo Vecchio.  We saw the original Judith inside the Palazzo Vecchio (in the Sala dei Gigli) a little further into the day.  Originally installed at the Palazzo Medici in the garden, Judith and Holofernes may have been commissioned as a fountainpiece though there is no evidence that it was ever used as such.  The bronze can be read many different ways, some of them more controversial than others, which has led to much scholarly debate.  Though Judith and Holofernes once stood where a reproduction of Michelangelo’s David now guards the entrance to the Palazzo, the bronze was relegated to the David’s right.  On the one hand, it may represent chastity or virtue (Sanctimonia) triumphing over lust (Luxuria), which would have had positive connotations for the Florentine viewer.  It also represents the triumph of an embodied Florence over her enemies.  However, even as these moral and political readings work, these readings are complicated by the imagery of a woman conquering a man, which would have disturbed the statue’s audience in Renaissance Florence.  The placement of Judith’s body – one foot on his genitals, the other on Holofernes’s wrist, her legs straddling his shoulder – is both disturbingly violent and erotic. Scimitar raised overhead, Judith is caught in a temporal suspension, between the first and second blows before Holofernes is beheaded.  Furthermore, the scenes depicted on the base link the statue’s inception as a fountainpiece with the drunken revelry of a Bacchic procession with allusions to Holofernes’s inebriated state in the narrative. 

Michelangelo's David.

Of course, we couldn’t visit Florence without talking about Michelangelo’s David.  Though we didn’t see the original at the Piazza della Signoria (we’ll see it tomorrow at the Galleria dell’Accademia), we did see a copy in its original placement in front of the Palazzo’s entrance.  Ousting Donatello’s Judith and Holofernes from its place of honor in 1504, the David represented a more masculine embodiment of a Republican Florence, free of Medici influence.  The block of marble used to carve the David was originally intended for use in the Duomo; sculptors had tried to carve figures from it for years before Michelangelo co-opted it for his own masterpiece.  Placement of the David at the time sparked debates among influential Florentines, among them the herald of Florence Filarete and the artist Leonardo da Vinci (who was invited to the meetings).  Location was key; placement in front of the Signoria would be read as a strictly anti-Medici message while placement in the Loggia di Lanzi would have neutralized these anti-Medici overtones (this location would have had the David facing south towards Rome, where the Medici Pope resided).  After meetings for days, it was finally decided that the David would be placed in front of the Palazzo as a symbol of a heroic, virile, male symbol of the Florentine Republic. 

On the other side of the Palazzo entrance stands Bandinelli’s Hercules and Cacus.  Commissioned by the Medici after their return to Florence, the Hercules and Cacus neutralizes the anti-Medici message of the David, as the Hercules myth was one co-opted by the Medici, as was their wont.  Florentines, of course, hated it, and saw its overly emphasized musculature as a failed response to the masterpiece of Michelangelo’s David. 

Cellini's Perseus and Medusa.

Cellini’s Perseus and Medusa, housed in the Loggia di Lanzi adjacent to the Palazzo, responds directly to both the David and Judith and Holofernes.  By echoing the two-person system established by Judith and Holofernes and Hercules and Cacus as well as the violent imagery of domination through beheading, Perseus and Medusa can be seen as the triumphant return of the Medici family to power.  Though all of the works of art we have seen in Florence spark multivalent readings, Michael Cole’s “Cellini’s Blood,” which we read for today, emphasizes the aspects of Cellini’s Perseus that were not dictated by Medici patronage.  The artist, too, incorporates certain elements or messages that he wants viewers to extract; in the case of the Perseus, Cellini was interested in the organic process of creating his bronze.  Cellini writes in his autobiography about the vitality of the casting and talked of spiritelli and the way the bronze itself seemed to be alive.  This quality of life can also be seen in his rendering of Medusa’s blood.  The way it spurts from both head and decapitated body recalls the formation of coral, which has both mythical and Biblical connection (mythical because Medusa’s blood falls into the ocean to form coral and Biblical because blood to Christians recalls the shedding of Christ’s blood).  Furthermore, Cellini equates bronze to blood, so that lifeless bronze takes on a new vitality. 

            After spending some time outside in the Piazza, we headed inside the Palazzo Vecchio, where the warmer environment was a welcome change from the January cold.  First on the agenda was the Room of Five Hundred.  During the Republican period (1498-1512), it was used for legislative meetings where 500 officials would come together to debate governmental measures (Note: under the Medici, the number of elected officials dwindled to roughly 80).  Frescoes by Leonardo da Vinci and Michelangelo were commissioned to decorate the walls, though they remained unfinished.  Leonardo got as far as a wax-and-fresco sketch of the Battle of Anghiari on the walls, while Michelangelo only had a cartoon of the Battle of Cascina.  When the Medici came back into power, Cosimo Primo commissioned Vasari to paint over these fresco cycles, which he did. 

            In the 1550s, Vasari paints the Conquering of Siena as well as the Conquering of Pisa.  The Pisa cycle illustrates the battle between Florence and Pisa in 1509.  The subjugation of Pisa was seen as proof of Florence’s Manifest Destiny.  Because the battle occurred while the Medici were in exile, Vasari paints the soldiers in all'antica garb, classicizing and idealizing the battlefield.  In the Siena cycle, Vasari emphasizes the role of Cosimo Primo as a brilliant military general and tactician.  The representation of the battle of Siena contrasts sharply with the organized chaos of the Pisa cycle.  Vasari paints carefully ordered regiments and cutting edge military technology such as muskets, cannons, and crossbows to underscore his patron’s greatness.  The ceiling, too, aggrandizes the family by depicting the apotheosis of Cosimo Primo. 

Michelagelo's Victory.

          

Also displayed in the Room of Five Hundred is Michelangelo’s Victory, a marble sculpture in the round that has Victory triumphing over a crouched enemy.  Taken as an allegorical Florence triumphing Pisa, this Victory is an ambiguous work because of its non-finito status.  It is unclear if the unfinished roughness of the statue (seen in the claw-footed chisel marks of the conquered older man) is an aesthetic choice on the artist’s part, or if Michelangelo simply abandoned the work. 

            Leaving the Room of Five Hundred, we toured the private apartments of the Medici Family; when Cosimo Primo took control of Florence after the Medici exile, he claimed the Palazzo Vecchio as his living quarters though it had previously been the seat of government.  He also had many of the rooms redecorated.  In the apartments of Leo X, the first Medici Pope, he commissioned decorations celebrating his family history.  The most interesting painting was a fresco scene in grisaille that depicted post-Republican sentiments about Michelangelo’s David.  In the fresco, the David has been decapitated while a dog defecates directly under it.  

            Following the apartments of Leo X, we wandered through the apartments of Cosimo Primo’s wife, Eleanora of Toledo.  The artist featured heavily in the Spanish princesses private quarters was Bronzino.  Of particular note was her chapel, which featured a Moses cycle.  Bronzino often quoted the innovations of Michelangelo in his depictions of the biblical narrative, echoing the detailed male musculature and use of color seen in the Sistine Chapel.  Bronzino also painted the altarpiece, though the one housed in Eleanora’s chapel is a copy of the original (which was gifted to a French ambassador who so admired it.   Bronzino made the copy that stands in the chapel today). 

Ghirlandaio fresco in the Salla dei Gigli.

            

Original Judith.

            

            The decorations of the Sala dei Gigli , or Room of the Lilies, dates before Cosimo Primo’s time, though the Medici had a hand in the process.  Lorenzo de' Medici was in charge of electing Opera officials and used the system to get the decorations he wanted.  Ghirlandaio was in charge of the fresco cycles on the far walls – the leftmost field displays Brutus, Scevolus, and Camillus, the central field features the saints Zanobi, Stephan, and Laurence, and the rightmost field displays Decio, Scipione and Circerone.   The original Judith and Holofernes is also housed in this room, though this is a later addition. 

          

Study of Francesco I.

            Our final destination was the Study of Francesco I, the son of Cosimo I.  The study is comprised of four separate parts, each corresponding to a separate element of Earth, Air, Wind, and Fire.  Paintings of alchemical or natural processes covered these walls and also doubled as cabinet fronts, inside of which natural or metallurgic curiosities relating to the paintings were kept.  Though we were forbidden from actually entering the study, the oddity of paintings was certainly interesting to sneak a peek at. 

            The Study concluded our day at the Palazzo Vecchio, Piazza della Signoria, and Loggia di Lanzi.  Tomorrow, we head to the Galleria dell’Accademia, where the long anticipated David is displayed, as well as the New Sacristy.  Prepare yourselves for all Michelangelo, all day!

Blogger of the Day – Ting Chang

Our Day in Siena

Today we had an early start as we ventured to Siena, another Tuscan hillside town just south of Florence. We visited the Duomo, Mueso dell’ Opera, the “so called” crypt, the Baptistery, the Piazza del Campo, and finally the Palazzo Pubblico. I will go through each location separately in the following text.

Background of Siena:                                

We have been spending much time on the history of Florence but what about its rival city Siena? Siena began to flourish because it was located en route of a major travel road between Rome and France. Siena is famous for two important monuments: the cathedral complex (Duomo) and the Palazzo Publico (city hall). Both have towers that were built to be equivalent heights when seen on the horizon, which was an architectural feat considering the church was on a much higher plot of land than the Palazzo. Siena wanted a connection to Rome so they made their own version of the Romulus and Remus she-wolf story. The Sienese claimed that before Romulus killed Remus, Remus had a son, Senius, who founded the city. The two sons, Aschius and Senius, had a black horse and a white horse respectively, which is how Siena obtained its city colors, black and white (balzana).

Siena and Florence have been rival cities throughout history. On September 4th, 1260 there was a famous battle at Montaperti where the Sienese beat the Florentines. Before the battle the Sienese prayed to the Virgin for protection and ultimately victory. When this prayer was fulfilled the city of Siena was dedicated to the Virgin and the citizens soon after supported the cult of the Virgin. This brings us to our first monument…

The Duomo:

            Since the 9^th century there has been at Church in this location in Siena, in the 12^th century however, the Sienese wanted to build a Cathedral that would rival the Duomo in Florence. The structure was finished in the 13^th century and the façade, by the 14^th century. Nicola Pisano’s son, Giovanni, is credited with the façade sculptures commissioned around 1270 (all of which are now housed in the Mueso dell’ Opera and replaced with 19^th century replicas). This duomo, like the entire city, is dedicated to the Virgin. At the top of the façade there is a large mosaic depicting Christ crowing the Virgin, symbolizing her status as Queen of Heaven.

            Upon entering the church you are met with a very impressive interior, far grander than the interior of the Florentine Duomo. The columns and walls are constructed of black and white marble stripes (Siena’s colors), the ceiling is painted a deep blue and covered in golden stars, the floor, when totally uncovered, is also a artistic masterpiece. Colored marble cutouts, by Beccafumi, are laid out to form narrative scenes called an intarsia effect, which cover the pavement complex. This technique is reminiscent of how a mosaic is constructed.

            The first work we focused on was Donatello’s John the Baptist. This bronze sculpture depicts Donatello’s ragged and rough sculpture style and is reminiscent of his Mary Magdalene in the Mueso dell’Opera de Duomo in Florence. The ascetic John the Baptist is very burly and rugged; the detailing of the hair is visible as well as deep inset eyes and a heavy brow, which make his attributes perceivable from a distance below. Donatello didn’t seem to like Siena and did most of the work on this statue while in Florence and sent it to the duomo for final touches.

            Before moving to the pulpit we discussed how the church is divided artistically. On the lower parts of the walls and columns the earthly realm is represented and sometimes pagan elements. However if you examine the artwork nearer to the ceiling one will find popes and angels and the more heavenly realm. It is separated this way because the earthly depictions are near to the people and the earth is where the people are, meanwhile the windows where the light pour into the church, nearer to the ceiling, represent the heavens and where people aspire to get to.

            Next we examined the famous pulpit by Nicola Pisano. The elaborate stairs and back portion were added later but the main pulpit section is from the 1260s. Around the top one can find a Christ cycle. First there is the nativity relief, where Pisano shows multiple scenes in one narrative: the visitation, the birth, and the shepherds coming. The next panel depicts the adoration of the magi. It is sculpted in high relief and the figures in the upper registers are bent forward really including the viewer in the scene. There is a compound perspective to this piece as we see parts from di sotto in su, like the horses’ bellies, and other parts from straight on, like the tilted faces so we don’t see only their chins. The scenes that follow are the massacre of the innocents, the crucifixion, the blessed in paradise, and it comes full circle (octagon) with the dammed in hell facing close to the high altar.

            We finished in the Piccolomini library with frescoes of scenes from the life of Pius II. The room was lined with music manuscripts for the choir and had an antique sculpture of the three graces. 

 Mueso dell’ Opera:

            The most famous piece in this museum is Duccio’s Maesta.
This painting was commissioned after they beat the Florentines to replace the altarpiece with a larger image in praise and thanks to Mary. On the front side is depicts the Madonna and Child enthroned with saints and on the back, facing the choir, is a Christ cycle. Duccio, a famous Sienese painter, paints the Madonna with almond shaped eyes, grey toned skin, and in rich ultramarine blue robes. For the scenes on back there are a few panels that are larger than the others: the crucifixion, the garden scene, and when Judas turns over Christ to the Roman soldiers. These bigger scenes signify that they are moments to be focused on for devotion. Unfortunately this altarpiece has been deconstructed and panels have been lost over the ages.

            On the adjoining wall is Lorenzitti’s Birth of the Virgin painted in 1347. Elements in the painting, like the blue stared ceilings place the scene back in the duomo. This tells the viewers that the Madonnas home is within the duomo of Siena. This is also a compound perspectival piece. The lines on the bedding as well as the tiles on the floor lead to one point perspective with a vanishing point, however, the vaults are seen from di sotto in su.

After we saw the Madonna with large eyes which used indentations and 3D elements to make the picture more lively. Duccio’s Maesta replaced this piece. We quickly climbed the arches of the unfinished new nave of the church and looked out onto a beautiful view of the city.

 “So Called” Crypt:

            This area under the church was recently found and historians assume it was a crypt even though they have not found any bones. The area was built and beautifully frescoed in the 1280s and then filled in and the Baptistery was constructed on top before it was ever used. Another theory is that this space was a southern entrance to the Church. The frescoes and scenes seem very mixed up and out of place causing art historians to have trouble discerning the function, ground level, and other aspects of the rooms. Interestingly, this is one of the only places in the world where ultramarine and gold has been used a secco and has been preserved making this a wonderful stop for anyone interested in art history.

 Baptistery:

            In the center of the Baptistery the font is decorated with a series of bronze reliefs. Ghiberti and Donatello constructed the most famous panels. Ghiberti’s panel here is much more detailed than his famous doors in Florence. Also Donatello’s typical squashed relief style (extremely low relief) is demonstrated. Lastly, the dancing angels atop the font are also bronze castings by Donatello.

 Piazza del Campo:

            Next we ventured to the famous Piazzo del Campo. This area was a large sloping public square. It is divided into 9 sections to mimic the nove, or nine elected officials who served 2-month terms on an executive board. This area is famous for the century old tradition of an annual horse race called the Palio.  At the top of the piazza there is a fountain that portrays nude figures and secular imagery, a very unusual choice for a public artistic depiction at this time. With stomachs growling we stopped for a group lunch and enjoyed homemade pasta and tiramisu!

Palazzo Publico:

            The last stop on our adventure was the Palazzo Pubblico, the old city hall with the soaring bell tower (also rivaling the Florentine tower).  In the first room there is a large fresco by Simone Martini. It depicts the Virgin as the Queen of heaven under a canopy; she is flanked by the patron saints of Siena, Ansanus, Savintus, Crescentius, Victor, and angels.  Mary’s blonde hair is visible showing the more poetic and beautiful side of the Virgin. This is significant because it was painted around the same time Dante had just finished part of his Comedy beginning a movement involving poetry and poetic forms in art. Another interesting facet is that this depiction of Mary is within the governmental building, this is because in the 13^th, 14^th, and 15^th centuries religion and government were very much intertwined.

            Next we moved to the Room of the Nine Governors and Defenders of the Commune with a fresco cycle by Ambrogio Lorenzetti. The murals display what the city would look like if the nove ruled it. There were depictions of good and bad government and their respective towns with everyday life scenes. Bad government was depicted with tyranny as the ruler with devil horns and justice in chains. The accompanying scene has beggars in the streets and people are leaving the town armed. Meanwhile, the wall with good government depicts the Sienese ruler in the town colors surrounded by the virtues. In the town there is trade between people, dancing, and happy citizens leaving the city. There is also a light source right in the center of the town that illuminates all the good facets of a town under just ruling. Interestingly, there are no religious depictions anywhere in the scene of good government; this is most likely to elicit the fact that government under a peaceful ruler doesn’t necessarily need to involve the church.  

            Dan and Tom gave us a wonderful presentation to illuminate these facts and the setup of the different governmental scenes. They moved on to discus a debate about the figures dancing in the peaceful town. Art historians disagree on the gender of these dancers. Skinner says they must be male because they have short hair, visible ankles, and the designs on their dresses. Campbell argues that the dancers are like the larva depicted on their dresses meaning they are neither male nor female. They agree however that the nine dancers are in groups of three that symbolize joy, peace, and glory. This debate shows that the art is two-faceted and can be interpreted with political or poetic connotations.

Enjoy, 

Allie :)

           

           

The Uffizi, Part II

Today we finished our grand tour of the Uffizi, which began yesterday morning. While the previous day’s exhibits were focused more on Florentine work and the development of the Florentine style over the centuries, today we got a taste of the northern styles of Italian artists from the sixteenth century.

We began our exploration of Northern Italy in Venice, with Giovanni Bellini’s Lamentation over the Body of Christ and Sacred Allegory, and Cima da Conegliano’s rendition of the Madonna and Child. It is questioned whether or not The Lamentation over the Body of Christ was a finished work. It was painted entirely in grisaille, but the canvas itself was prepared for color. The canvas is prepared however, for color, suggesting that Bellini had intended to render the images in color later, and never completed it.

The Bellini works depicted in the Uffizi are atypical of the workshop’s usual style; Conegliano’s Madonna and Child is a better representation of the Bellini workshop’s pieces. From the Madonna and Child, one can instantly see the how the Venetian approach to painting differs from that of Florence. The colors are brilliant and carefully executed, with less emphasis on disegno, the bold, definitive lines often found in Florentine work.

The distinction from Florentine disegno is even stronger in the works of Correggio, famous throughout the Northern regions between Florence and Milan in his time. Correggio uses the revolutionary sfumato effect, invented by Leonardo da Vinci, in which figures and forms seem to step out of dark, smoky shadows, and the edges merge and blend. The faces of Correggio’s figures also mimic Leonardo’s preferred face type. The use of sfumato and mimicry of Leonardo’s figural style is an indication of his great influence in the area around Milan.

Across from Correggio were three Mantegna paintings, Madonna of the Caves, a grand altarpiece, and a portrait of Cosimo de Medici’s illegitimate son. Patronized by the Gonzaga family, Mantegna painted in the same northern regions as Correggio, and yet his style is quite different from that of Correggio.

His great passion was for classical antiquity, and this passion is shown clearly in the Madonna of the Caves. As no painting of a human figure had been discovered from antiquity in his time, Mantegna drew his inspiration for the depiction of people from ancient sculptures. As such, he gives Mary and Christ a “stony” quality, as if he had taken sculpture and given it color and life. The figures have hard edges, their flesh is painted with cold grey tones without the usual pink hue, and their postures do not portray the same level of animation many other artists were using at the time.

We next came to a portrait of a young woman called The Nun by Rodolfo Ghirlandaio. Unlike today, most portraits of the time were covered with a curtain with another panel upon which pagan or otherwise symbolic imagery might be painted. We are lucky that this particular portrait still has its original covering panel, as few such panels survive today. While the portrait itself is typical of the time – a woman is painted in a three-quarter profile – the panel is far more interesting. Upon it is painted an empty mask in color, surrounded by grisaille detail work. The presence of the mask is meant to draw attention to the fictiveness of the portrait, that the portrait is merely a representation of the exterior of the person, and not essence of that person. This concept of a portrait functioning as a mask appeared many times during our exploration of the Uffizi.

On the wall adjacent to Ghirlandiao’s portrait, an immense Michelangelo is hung - the Doni Tondo. A circular painting still set in its original frame, decorated with the sculpted faces of unknown persons, the Doni Tondo depicts the Madonna and Child and Joseph in the center, with and infant John the Baptist looking on, and nude males in the background. The Doni family who commissioned the painting did not have many sons, and wanted Michelangelo to incorporate the theme of fatherhood and fertility into the scene. As such, Joseph plays an unusually important role in the image. He, Mary, and Christ are situated in a bold triangular form. Mary sits between Joseph’s splayed knees, creating the idea of an erotic relationship between the two. They are further connected by Christ, who appears to be either handed up to Joseph, or down to Mary. While Mary’s arms extend towards and touch Christ, it is Joseph who is supporting the infant’s weight.

The three holy figures are pressed forward from the picture plane into our space, and placed slightly to the left of the center. Michelangelo counterbalances this off-center placement by filling the background to the right with more figures. An infant John the Baptist leans forward on the ledge upon which the three holy figures stand, peering up at them. His presence is probably a nod to the Doni family’s yearning for heirs, as it was believed that if a woman looked at the image of a beautiful child during intercourse, she would be more likely to conceive. John the Baptist draws the eye away from the central characters and leads the viewer’s attention deeper into the background, where stand the male nudes. There is much debate about the significance of the nudes. Some theorists suggest that they may represent souls awaiting baptism or, tying in with the theme of fatherhood and procreation, may represent a desire for sons.

The Doni Tondo provides an excellent source of comparison between the Florentine and northern painting styles. Here, Michelangelo has painted his signature, heroic nude figures in vibrant colors, with heavy emphasis on anatomical accuracy. The forms, especially the drapery, are delineated with bold, dark lines, in contrast with the northern style in which light and shadow was used to distinguish objects and figures. Mary’s posture, turning towards Christ with her arms extended, is a nod to Michelangelo’s work on the Sistine Chapel, in which he painted one of the sibyls in the same position, but viewed from behind.

After careful examination of the Doni Tondo, we moved on to study artists of the Mannerist school. In the Renaissance, art was prized as a way of bringing the subject to life, and depictions of holy figures were used to bring one closer to the divine realm. However, there was also a growing concern over the many aspects of the Catholic Church, exemplified by Luther’s theses and the following protest against Catholicism. It was during this time that the Mannerists began to question the role of art in religion and society, and to express these questions in their art.

The first Mannerist we discussed was Andrea del Sarto, who painted the Madonna of the Harpies in 1517, notably the same year that Luther famously nailed his theses to his door. The painting features Mary holding Christ, standing upon a pedestal engraved with harpies, flanked by two small angels at her feet and two saints in mirrored, reverse poses. Sarto makes heavy use of sfumato, blending the edges of the figures together with the surrounding shadows. The ultimate effect is that Mary appears to be stepping out into the light from the darkness behind her. Sarto may have also used this technique to erase his own “artist’s hand.” At the same time that sfumato blends figures together and unifies the color scheme, it also has the tendency to smooth over brushwork, which has theological implications. Because the imagery is of a divine nature, Sarto wanted to remove traces of his own work on the painting to imply that it was divinely created.

Sarto’s decision to place Mary on a pedestal of harpies is a curious one, and difficult to explain. There are several possible theories. In ancient Rome, harpies were creatures that would help dead souls in the transition from life to death, so Mary’s placement above them could suggest that she is the vehicle that will help the soul transition from the earthly to the heavenly realm. Another theory postulates that this is an example of superlatio, as Mary standing on top of the pagan harpies might imply her domination over them. Finally, in keeping with Sarto’s mannerist tendencies, tying the image of Mary to the harpies might have been his way of commenting on the similarities of Christian imagery with pagan idols. He may have been expressing a fear that religious art was too close to idolatry, a fear similarly expressed by Luther.

Across the hall, we saw a portrait of Pope Julius II by Raphael. His rendering of the pope is not just beautiful, but clever as well. When greeting the pope in person, one must approach him at an angle and kiss the rings on his hand. Unlike in Ghirlandaio’s portrait of the nun, where he wanted to emphasize the fictive nature of portraiture, Raphael’s goal in painting the pope was to create the illusion that the pope was present in the portrait, even if the man himself was not present. To do so, he painted the pope sitting at an angle with his ringed hand in the center of the picture plane, such that the viewer would be forced to approach the painting in the same manner that one would approach the pope in the flesh. The effect was so successful that all portraiture of popes would be executed in a similar style for the next two hundred years. In fact, Pope Leo X sent a portrait of himself to a wedding that he could not attend, because it was as if the image could replace the man himself.

The appreciation for Raphael’s work extended far beyond his papal portraiture, and is exemplified by the story of his Madonna of the Goldfinch. Originally by Raphael’s hand, the painting was shattered into thirteen pieces when the roof of the palace it was housed in collapsed after Raphael’s death. The owners regarded the painting so highly, that they had Bronzino and Ghirlandaio put it back together and repaint the majority of it. Even though it is mostly done by their hands, to this day it is still called a Raphael.

Our next mannerist was Rosso Fiorentino, whose work we have seen before at Santo Spirito. Always pushing the boundaries of what was considered acceptable, Rosso had difficulty finding commissions. In fact, the Ospedale degli Innocenti, who commissioned his Madonna Enthroned with a Saint, rejected the altarpiece before he had finished it. It is easy to see why they might; he paints with a heavy mascara style, smearing paint downward on the canvas. If sfumato erases the artist’s hand, his mascara effect does the opposite, and exaggerates it. The effect is that you get figures with dark eyes and dead, mask-like faces. In keeping with his mannerist tendency of questioning the role of art, he paints cadaverous, emaciated figures, as if to say that painting is nothing more than dead paint on a dead canvas. This flies in the face of the conventional ideal of art, that it should bring the subject to life. He uses the theme of paint as a dead medium in his Moses Defending the Daughters of Jethro, in which his male nudes, while reminiscent of Michelangelo’s heroic nudes, are emaciated, and the female faces are dead and mask-like.

Rosso’s style couldn’t be more different from Titian’s Flora. Here, we have an idealized woman with soft, delicate features. She is painted in the typical portraiture convention, in three-quarter profile. However, no noble woman would have ever been painted in so sensual a manner – her light garment falls below her breast, and she offers flowers to the viewer in her right hand. There is some question about who she might have been. Some postulate that she may have been a courtesan, or some other woman, while others believe that she might simply be an idealized allegory.

Of course, one cannot go to the Uffizi without seeing Titian’s Venus of Urbino. This painting features a woman – again, soft and idealized as in Flora – reclining on a bed, with a dog at her foot and two maidservants in the background. She glances out towards the viewer, and her hand is suggestively placed between her legs.The original patrons are unknown, however, the Duke of Urbino caught a glimpse of the painting before it was completed, and fell in love with it instantly. He bought it from Titian, and hung it in his bedroom. The Duke was unmarried, and as such there is little doubt about what he used it for: a sexy pinup.

Because we don’t know who the original patrons were, it is impossible to know for certain what the intended purpose of the painting was. However, there are some who believe that the image was meant to be, not a sexy pinup, but a gift for newlyweds to encourage fertility. The placement of Venus’s hand suggests masturbation, reflecting the Renaissance belief that if a woman were to masturbate following intercourse, she would be more likely to conceive a son. The cassone, or marriage chests, in the background further suggest that this painting was intended for newlyweds. Finally, while Venus is indeed very sensual, the care with which Titian rendered every detail, from the delicate textures of the fabrics to the fur of the dog, is so exquisite that it is difficult to imagine that the painting was meant for nothing more than erotic pleasure.

Leaving the realm of Titian, we encountered Parmigianino’s Madonna with the Long Neck. This painting is very unsettling, just as Parmigianino intended. While the colors are rich and beautiful, the brushwork is almost nonexistent, and the figures are highly disproportionate, with elongated necks, limbs, and fingers. Furthermore, elements in the background don’t rationalize. The column by the Madonna’s head leads to nowhere, and the columns that should be behind it disappear, as if Parmigianino simply forgot to complete them. The drapery of the small figure of the man on the right is transparent, and a disembodied foot stands next to him. These impossibilities create a sense of artificiality, as if this world he painted is unreal. In this way Parmigianino shows his mannerist tendencies. While many believe that through painting the subject comes to life, Parmigianino instead argues the opposite, that a painting is unreal and artificial.

Lastly, after viewing the Uffizi collection as it exists today, we finally got a taste of how it might of looked in its first days in the recreation of the tribune room. The Uffizi, translated to English as offices, was originally the location of the Medici-run Bureaucracy under Cosimo I. In 1580, Francesco I dedicated the tribune room to works of art, making it one of the first museums in Europe. Over the centuries, it was expanded into the grand tribute to art that we see today.

The tribune room is filled with portrait after portrait of Medici family members, many of which were by Bronzino. Two portraits, one of Lorenzo il Magnifico and Cosimo Vecchio, were done by Pontormo & Vasari. These were commissioned posthumously, and were the Medici’s way of tying together the old and new generations. In the portrait of Lorenzo, painted by his head are an empty mask and a satyr head, and a fictive carving of a gruesome face is placed beneath his hand. These faces and masks perform a similar function as Ghirlandaio’s mask on the panel covering the portrait of the nun; they function to remind the viewer that a portrait is nothing more than a representation of one’s exterior. Next to the portrait of Cosimo il Vecchio is a tree branch, representing the endless branch that was one of the Medici’s many symbols of their indomitable rule. Just as one can cut off a branch of the tree, only to find that another branch has grown in its place, one can kill one branch of the Medici, only to have the branch replaced with another.

It was on that note that we adjourned for the day, and went our separate ways to enjoy the many sights and cities of Italy. Some of us went off to see Milan, others to Venice, and some to further explore the beautiful city of Florence. Have a fantastic weekend, everyone!

Lauren Damon