Now, at last, they were leaving, and did not plan to be back for a month. Their departure filled me with elation and I could not wait to see them go.
The earl called me up to his room, where he had tasks and reminders listed on sheets of paper in front of him. ‘Richard. Good. I need to run through some bits and pieces with you before we go.’
I was used to this procedure and responded in my usual way. ‘Shall I make notes, Your Grace?’
He shook his head. ‘No need. It’s all here.’
He waved me forward and together we went through the list of tasks he wished to remind me were my responsibility for the next month. Since the vast majority of them I normally performed anyway, the process seemed somewhat unnecessary, but taking my lead from Thomas, I listened while the earl read them off one by one.
‘Now, these two are new and important. First, the portrait. I may have something made while I am in Ferrara but I don’t want to lose the opportunity with your man Tintoretto, so keep him warm. We can always tickle him up a bit when I return, if he’s needed.
‘Second, I sense we are reaching the end of our period of active support with the Doge and I should like to become less dependent on his generosity. That being the case, will you please find us a house to rent, so that we can move there as soon as Thomas and I return – earlier, if you find it convenient. This purse contains sufficient money for an initial deposit and you are hereby authorized to sign the lease yourself He waved an official-looking piece of paper at me.
‘I would like something comfortable and of a reasonable size, but not necessarily a palazzo. What is important is that it should be presentable to visitors and accessible to the dear lady, Madame Franco. You will have to find out discreetly where she lives, but I am sure you can use your ingenuity. Do not pay more than three hundred ducats a year without writing to me first, but on no account must you sacrifice quality. Is that understood?’ As always, I nodded my head, tried to look sensible and reliable, and hoped he would not repeat himself too many times.
An hour later they were gone, and apart from Cuoca and Bimbo, the two remaining house servants, I had the place to myself; I had my freedom. The question was, what could I do with it? I made a resolution not to waste the opportunity. I was in a beautiful city, at the prettiest and most comfortable time of year and I had a small group of new friends to talk to. I had plenty of my own money, and all the time in the world.
I resolved to do three things.
First, I would spend more time learning to draw at Jacopo Tintoretto’s. Perhaps he would allow me to do some painting if I paid for my materials? The apprentices there had become good friends and Jacopo himself seemed to have taken a liking to me, so the omens were good. At the back of my mind was the lingering fascination with the faceless woman with the olive skin, who so often seemed to be hovering out of sight when I was there but had never made herself fully visible. Who was she, why was she there, and why did Tintoretto allow her to listen in to our conversations?
Second, I resolved to use the next month to further my mission to help Suor Faustina. I had promised her I would act on her behalf, but the truth was I did not have any idea how to help her escape. I could not fail her – I could not live with that. I had made a promise and I must keep it, somehow. Meanwhile, time was running out.
My third resolution brought me back to Veronica. I had decided I was acting like a lovesick boy, and was in danger of making a fool of myself, if I had not already done so. Looking back, she had not misled me at any stage. Jacopo had introduced her as a courtesan and she had made no secret of it. She had wanted an introduction to Courtenay and had befriended me – perhaps as a means to secure an introduction. I had to grow up and come to terms with the reality that she probably did not feel for me any of the longing I was currently feeling for her.
I decided I must see her again soon to secure her continuing friendship, for I had come to a conclusion: jealousy would not help any of us. I would not walk away from her in petulance simply because I could not have her as a lover.
A month. It was not a long time, with so many objectives in mind.
CHAPTER 41
March the 28th 1556 – Bottega di Tintoretto
‘Come, Richard, look at this.’
A storm had blown in earlier that morning. Rain hammered on to the windows above us and the light was very poor; hardly good enough to paint by. The group took it all philosophically and there was a relaxed mood as everyone tidied up and did odd jobs, preparing for when the light improved again. Jacopo Tintoretto took me across to a canvas on the far side of the studio workshop. The work was unfinished, but already the chubby angels were soaring above us, looking down on the Madonna below and at the sweeping scenery behind her.
‘What do you see?’
This was difficult: to have Tintoretto himself show me what I assumed was one of his paintings and to ask me what I thought. I cast my mind back to previous teaching sessions, when he had let me sit in with his garzone and the assistente who formed the working group under his guidance and leadership.
‘Although it is unfinished and the colours are not completed, already I feel comfortable with it, as if it tells me the story and if I had to, I could fill in the incomplete parts.’
‘Excellent.’ Jacopo smiled broadly at my reply.
‘Now, do you know why you feel so comfortable?’
‘Is it the composition?’
‘Yes, in part. We say that oil painting is based on the “trinity”. First we have invenzione – the development of the subject matter of the picture and the way it is laid out on the canvas – to tell a story. Second comes the precise use of perspective and the excellence of the drawing itself, giving form to the figures, so they do not look as if they have been cut from drawing paper and stuck on to the background scenery. We call this disegno – the detailed design of the painting, and the creation of life through tonal differences, light and shade. What follows is colorato – the choice and application of colour – but we will come to that later. The point I want to make to you now is that, eight years ago, the man who created the image before you could not draw as well as you do now. It is a learned skill, and he has learned it well.’
I was surprised. ‘Whose work is it?’
‘Gentile’s. I will tell you in private that he can draw better than I can – but don’t tell him so. That’s why we call him Michelangelo – that and his lumpy great face!’
He called across the studio. ‘Ehi, Michelangelo!’
Gentile looked up and walked over, smiling.
‘How long have you been with us here, Gentile?’
‘Eight years, maestro. I came when I was fourteen and I am now twenty-two.’
Tintoretto nodded. ‘And how well could you draw when you came here?’
‘Not at all, maestro. I remember the first day you told me to draw a straight line and a perfect circle. They took me a week, and even then they were not as good as they should have been. I never understood why you accepted me.’
Jacopo smiled and put an arm around his shoulder. ‘Because you were keen, you listened, you did everything I told you to . . .’ There was a pause and Gentile began laughing as they finished the sentence together: and because your father asked me to!’
Jacopo slapped his senior assistant on the back and let him return to his other painting.
‘If you really want to study art properly, Richard, you must understand deeply what we are about. Some people out there believe painting is an art, given by God, but it isn’t – it’s a craft which can be taught and learned. Gentile is an outstanding example of how a man with some talent and a lot of application can develop his skill. If you worked as hard as Gentile, you could produce work of that quality, or perhaps close to that quality, in as many years, but there is more to understand than disegno and colorato. The key skill is in understanding the market and meeting its needs. Sit down, and let me explain.
‘I don’t know whether you have visited the other Republics
, Florence and Rome?’
I shook my head.
‘Well, if you studied there you would soon see two large differences compared with Venice. The first is artistic, the second political. You have visited the Palazzo Ducale and many of our churches, and seen the fresco paintings. What impression did they make on you?’
‘I thought they were wonderful, but in most cases, in poor condition.’
‘Correct. That is because of our position in the centre of the lagoon. We are surrounded by humidity and salinity. The saltwater of the lagoon gets in the air and soaks into the plaster on the walls. This quickly corrodes the paint and makes it peel off in a powder. For that reason our patrons have moved away to a large extent from fresco painting, meaning painting direct on to fresh plaster, and now adorn their palazzi and churches with paintings made with oil-based paints, painted on to stretched canvas. The canvas is coated with gesso before we paint and is much more able to withstand the ravages of the salt air.
‘This change has had an important effect upon our painting technique. When I first learned the trade with Jacopo Sansovino and Bonifacio dei Pitati, also called Bonifacio Veronese, I followed the traditional style. Much of the time we mixed distilled water into the dry paint pigment to make tempera. It absorbed well into the plaster for fresco painting and also, with the addition of egg yolks to make egg tempera, painted well on wooden panels.
‘Tempera is a thin paint, best applied in thin glazes, so the technique used for panel work repeated that for plaster. We made a separate drawing on paper, which we called a “cartoon”, then transferred it on to the plaster or panel and tidied it up with fresh charcoal. Once we were satisfied with the disegno stage, we brushed off the excess charcoal with a feather, then applied the first glaze to fix it to the ground. Because we could continue to see the drawing through our glazes, it became to many the critical part of the painting. Michelangelo – the real one – paints this way today, allowing the white background and the drawing marks upon it to shine through the finished work.
‘Here, it’s different. About eighty years ago, Flemish painters began to travel to Venice with the German merchants – especially the Fuggers – and exhibited their work at the Fondaco dei Tedeschi and elsewhere, selling many paintings. From them, painters like Giorgione and Titian learned the way of using the paint thicker and opaquely. The result was that the detail of the underlying drawing often disappeared. We did not let that worry us, but simply refound the design we wanted in fresh paint, and even scraped off parts of the original or painted over them if we changed our minds about the design as we went along. You probably saw some of Titian’s paintings defaced in that way, as he is well known for clinging to them and repainting whole sections time and again.’
I was fascinated by Tintoretto’s ability to stand back from his art and analyse it with such clarity. ‘Jacopo, I have noticed that the ground in many of these paintings is not white, as you described, but grey or brown. Why is this?’
He smiled, encouraged by my interest.
‘You are right, Richard. What we Venetian painters have discovered is that we can best achieve the results we want, not by drawing shapes and filling them in with colour, but by staining the early canvas with blocks of light and dark. The Flemish painters used soot dissolved in wine or urine to make a thin wash, or bistre, and we do something similar.
‘Leonardo da Vinci, Paulo Veronese, Titian and I use a style of under-painting that could, if we wished, stand alone as a finished work of art, without any colour whatsoever. This method is known by many names, such as grisaille, using grey, and verdaccio, using greenish-grey, but the principle is the same. It differs from the Flemish bistre because we use opaque mixtures of paint to lay in the entire composition, rather than inks. The under-painting can be as detailed as the finished work, but often we make it looser, so we can develop as we continue with colours. This method creates a great sense of presence in a painting. While the underpainting cannot be seen, except perhaps by another painter, its structure, tonal range and brushwork serve to make the finished work in colour appear more vivid. That is how to identify work of the Venetian school.
‘My ambition in this house is to maintain the best of both traditions. Many say that Titian cannot draw, but while draughtsmanship is not his greatest skill, I have to admit that his use of colour is exemplary. That is why I have this sign on the wall, to remind us all.’ He pointed to the wall opposite.
THE DRAWING OF MICHELANGELO;
THE COLOUR OF TITIAN
‘Michelangelo showed us that drawing is not just line, but chiaroscuro – the management of light and shade to emphasize form and depth.’
‘But where does politics enter into it?’
I could see that Jacopo enjoyed explaining his art to those who were interested, and although the morning was disappearing fast, the light was still poor and he continued enthusiastically.
‘In Rome, Florence and Genoa patronage of the arts reflects political power. Rome is dominated by the Pope, Florence by the Medicis and Genoa by the Doria family. Their approach to everything is to keep everyone guessing and competing one with another. This has produced a lot of new ideas and some great individual artists, but there is no sense of continuity.
‘Here in Venice the state controls everything, but with a sense of tradition and the soft hand of stabilized and continuing patronage. Ever since the days of Giovanni and Gentile Bellini, the state has encouraged us to develop organized family houses, which they can know and trust and to whom the responsibility of work can safely be delegated. It has certain disadvantages: the Council of Ten are very conservative and much of the time they want the same schemes to be repeated, often with very similar design themes, and this can be a bit constricting. It has its advantages, though, for an artist can hand down his design books to his son and thereby continue the family reputation.’
The rain had stopped, and almost immediately the clouds cleared and a bright shaft of sunlight broke through. Tintoretto looked up. ‘I had better get back to work. Richard, would you go to Veronica’s house and tell her we are able to paint again? She was due here earlier, but knows us well enough not to bother coming in a storm.’
I jumped up and made for the door. He called after me. ‘I know it is no hardship to ask you to go and see her, but make sure you bring her back with you. The sun is out and we must get painting.’
He need not have sent me, for I met her walking along the Fondamenta, in the direction of the studio. I turned and walked back with her, happy yet awkward in her company after watching her with Courtenay, but she chatted as if nothing had happened, and to my pleasure agreed to show me around the city the following day
I started counting the hours.
CHAPTER 42
March the 29th 1556 – House of Titian, Calle Larga dei Botteri
‘Did you know that his daughter got married last year and her dowry was 1,400 ducats? Who says there is no money in the art business?’ Veronica Franco nodded across the road towards Titian’s huge mansion.
We were standing in exactly the place I had stood when I had watched the cardinal leaving, and the image and memory of his conversation with Titian flooded back. Did Veronica, I wondered, have any inkling of how they talked about her behind her back?
‘I believe you used to model for Titian?’
She turned and looked at me steadily. ‘What do you mean by that?’
‘I meant just what I said.’ My face must have given me away.
‘Caro, how long do we have to go on with this childish game? You have the face of a chastened dog. The question you are asking me is did I ever sleep with Titian, who is well known to say that he cannot paint a woman unless he has tasted her. Well the answer is, ‘Yes I did – more than once.’ I needed the money, but more than that, I needed to find rich patricians to act as my benefactors and protectors, and to have my image in front of all his rich patrons was the best way to find them. And it worked. They all came flocking: nobles, merchants, bish
ops, cardinals. I became established.’
This was too much for me. ‘Did you sleep with the cardinal?’
‘Which one?’
‘The fat one.’
‘Probably They are all fat, except perhaps those who are sons and grandsons of the Pope – they tend to become cardinals much younger and one or two of them are quite lithe.’
My face must have fallen further, and she changed her approach. ‘Listen, cam, it is what I do for a living and as my way to survive as an independent woman in a man’s world. Yes, I have slept with them – almost all of them. That’s how this society works.’
I nodded, understanding but resentful. She took my arm and winked.
‘Just remember, cam, I may have slept with many men, but you are the only one who kept me awake.’
I stared at her, hoping it was true and that I had, somehow, reached her in a way the others had not. It was a vain thought, and she reacted to damp it down. ‘I do not need your permission to determine who I lie with, Richard.’
Her voice was hard, and I knew she was forcing me, finally, to accept the reality of the situation.
‘I know, but the thought hurts me, to think of you – you know.’
‘Would you think less of a friend if you found out he worked in a slaughterhouse?’
‘Of course not.’
‘Well think of it this way – I kill fat old pigs for a living. I just do it slowly, and they die happy.’
For the first time that day I laughed, and she laughed with me.
We continued walking, seemingly aimlessly, but all the while I was trying to steer our way gently towards Cannaregio and the convent.
Daughters of the Doge (Richard Stocker) Page 20
