Every single detail of Lorenzo’s doors demonstrates what the skill and genius of an accomplished sculptor can effect when he is casting figures in the round, in half relief, in low relief or very low relief. In the imaginative composition, the striking poses of his male and female figures, the perspectives, and the consistently graceful bearing of both sexes, Lorenzo demonstrated his perfect grasp of decorum, expressing gravity in the old and lightness and grace in the young.1 The doors are undeniably perfect in every way and must rank as the finest masterpiece ever created, either in ancient or modern times. It would be difficult to praise Lorenzo too much, seeing that one day Michelangelo Buonarroti himself, standing to look at the doors and being asked what he thought of them and whether they were not beautiful, remarked: ‘They are so beautiful that they would grace the entrance to Paradise.’
This tribute was indeed fitting, and it was offered by a man in a position to judge. And Lorenzo well deserved to bring the doors to completion, having started them when he was twenty and slaved on them for over forty years.
Lorenzo was assisted in finishing and polishing the work after it had been cast by many young men who afterwards became accomplished artists in their own right: namely, by Filippo Brunelleschi, Masolino da Panicale, and Niccolò Lamberti, goldsmiths, and by Parri Spinelli, Antonio Filarete, Paolo Uccello, Antonio Pollaiuolo, who was then quite young, and many others. By working in close collaboration on the doors and conferring with each other as a team they benefited themselves as much as Lorenzo. As well as being paid by the consuls, Lorenzo himself was given by the Signoria a good farm near the abbey of Settimo. Not long afterwards, he was made a member of the Signoria and so given the honour of serving on the chief magistracy of the city. For their treatment of Lorenzo the Florentines, therefore, are to be commended, just as they are to be censured for the ingratitude they have shown to other accomplished citizens. After he had completed the stupendous work of the doors, Lorenzo made the bronze ornamentation for the door of the same church which is opposite the Misericordia, introducing his marvellous foliage; but he died suddenly before he could finish it, after he had arranged everything and almost completed the model for the reconstruction of the door that Andrea Pisano had made. This model has fared badly in recent times, but when I was a young man I once saw it in the Borgo Allegri, before Lorenzo’s descendants had let it go to ruin.
Lorenzo had a son called Bonaccorso who himself very diligently completed the frieze and ornamentation, which, I maintain, constitute the rarest, most marvellous work in bronze anywhere to be seen.1 If he had not died while he was still young, Bonaccorso would have executed a great many works, since he was left the secret of casting bronzes so that they come out very delicately and he had the experience and knowledge needed for perforating the metal in the manner we can see in Lorenzo’s works. Lorenzo left his heirs not only work he had done himself but also many marble and bronze antiques such as the bed of Polycletus, a very remarkable work, the lifesize model of a leg in bronze, several male and female heads, and some vases that he had procured from Greece at no small expense. He also left some torsos and many other things which were all dissipated with his property, some of them being sold to Giovanni Gaddi, who was then clerk to the Camera Apostolica; among these were the bed of Polycletus and the best of the other things. Bonaccorso left a son called Vittorio who devoted himself to sculpture, but not very profitably as we can see from the heads that he made in the palace of the duke of Gravina at Naples which are poor specimens, for he never practised the art with affection or diligence but allowed the property and the other things left by his father and grandfather to go to rack and ruin. In the end when he was going to Ascoli as architect for Pope Paul III he had his throat cut by a servant who wanted to rob him. So the family died out, but not the fame of Lorenzo, which will endure for ever.
To return to Lorenzo himself: during his life he took an interest in many different things and he loved painting and working on glass. For Santa Maria del Fiore he made the circular windows around the cupola, except for the one showing the Coronation of Our Lady by Christ, which is by Donatello. Lorenzo also made the three windows over the principal doorway of Santa Maria del Fiore and all those in the chapels and the tribunes, as well as the rose window in the façade of Santa Croce. At Arezzo he made a window for the principal chapel of the parish church, containing the Coronation of Our Lady, and he did two other figures for a very rich merchant called Lazzaro di Feo di Baccio. But since they were all made of very highly coloured Venetian glass they tend to darken the places where they were put. Brunelleschi was given Lorenzo as his collaborator when he was commissioned to raise the cupola of Santa Maria del Fiore but (as I shall describe in my Life of Filippo) Lorenzo was subsequently removed.
Lorenzo Ghiberti wrote a book in Italian in which he dealt with many different subjects but in a most unhelpful way. In my opinion all that can be said for the book is that after Lorenzo has discussed several ancient painters (especially those cited by Pliny) he gives a brief mention to Cimabue, Giotto, and various others of that time; but discussion of these is cut too short, and only to lead to a fine discourse about himself and to leave room for a catalogue, which he duly supplied, of all his own works. I shall not hide the fact that Lorenzo intended the book to read as if it were by someone else; but then as the narrative proceeds, being better at drawing and using the chisel or casting a bronze than he was at spinning stories, Lorenzo starts slipping into the first person when referring to himself, writing ‘I said this’ or ‘I did that…’.
At length Lorenzo was attacked by a severe and persistent fever, and he died at the age of sixty-four, leaving behind him the undying fame brought him by his works and by what was written of him.1 He was honourably buried in Santa Croce. His portrait in bronze is on the principal door of San Giovanni, in the middle border when the door is closed, showing him as a bald man, and with the likeness of his father, Bartoluccio, next to it. Near by can be read the inscription: LAURENTII CIONIS DE GHIBERTIS MIRA ARTE FABRICATUM.2 The designs that he did were superb and made with great relief, as can be seen in our book of drawings where there is his drawing of one of the evangelists as well as several others beautifully done in chiaroscuro. His father, Bartoluccio, was also a fairly good draughtsman as is shown by another evangelist in my book, although this is clearly inferior to Lorenzo’s. I had these designs, along with some by Giotto and others, from Vittorio Ghiberti in 1528, when I was still a young man, and I have treasured them ever since because of their beauty and also in memory of such great men. Among the many verses both in Latin and Italian which have been written at various times to commemorate Lorenzo I shall, to avoid troubling the reader further, content myself with quoting this:
Dum cernit valvas auralo ex aere nitentes
In templo, Michael Angelus obstupuit:
Attonitusque diu, sic alta silentia rupit:
O divinum opus: O janua digna polo!1
When Michelangelo the panels saw
Gleaming upon the church in gilded bronze
Amaz’d he stood; after long wonder thus
The solemn silence broke: ‘O work divine!
O door worthy of heaven!’
LIFE OF MASACCIO
Painter of San Giovanni di Valdarno, 1401–28?
THE appearance of a man of outstanding creative talent is very often accompanied by that of another great artist at the same time and in the same part of the world so that the two can inspire and emulate each other. Besides bringing considerable advantages to the two rivals themselves, this phenomenon of nature provides tremendous inspiration for later artists who strive as hard as they can to win the fine reputation and renown which they hear every day attributed to their predecessors. How true this is we can see from the fact that in the same period Florence produced Filippo Brunelleschi, Donatello, Lorenzo Ghiberti, Paolo Uccello, and Masaccio, each of whom was an outstanding artist and through whose efforts the crude and clumsy style which had persevered up to that time was final
ly discarded. Moreover, their beautiful work so forcefully stimulated and inspired their successors that the techniques of art were brought to the greatness and perfection that we know today. So we are certainly deeply indebted to those innovators whose work showed us how to bring art to the summit of perfection. To Masaccio especially we are indebted for the good style of modern painting; for it was Masaccio who perceived that the best painters follow nature as closely as possible (since painting is simply the imitation of all the living things of nature, with their colours and design just as they are in life). Knowing this, and hungry for fame, Masaccio learnt so much from his endless studies that he can be numbered among the pioneers who almost entirely rid painting of its hardness, difficulties, and imperfections. He gave a beginning to beautiful attitudes, movements, liveliness, and vivacity, rendering relief in a way that was characteristic and natural and that no painter had ever before attempted.
Masaccio possessed extremely sound judgement, and so he realized that figures which were made to seem on tiptoe instead of being posed firmly with their feet in foreshortening on the level lacked all the basic elements of good style, and that those who painted like that had no understanding of foreshortening. Although Paolo Uccello had tackled this problem with a fair measure of success, Masaccio introduced many new techniques and made his foreshortenings, which he painted from every angle, far better than any done before. His paintings were remarkably soft and harmonious, and he matched the flesh-tints of his heads and nudes with the colours of his draperies, which he loved to depict with a few simple folds just as they appear in life. All this has been of great benefit to later artists, and indeed Masaccio can be given the credit for originating a new style of painting; certainly everything done before him can be described as artificial, whereas he produced work that is living, realistic, and natural.
Masaccio was born in the village of San Giovanni in the Valdarno, where, it is said, one can still see some figures that he made in early childhood. He was very absent-minded and erratic, and he devoted all his mind and thoughts to art and paid little attention to himself and still less to others. He refused to give any time to worldly cares and possessions, even to the way he dressed, let alone anything else; and he never bothered to recover anything owing to him unless his need was desperate. So instead of calling him by his proper name, which was Tommaso, everyone called him Masaccio.1 Not that he was in any way vicious. On the contrary, he was goodness itself; and although he was extraordinarily neglectful, he was as kind as could be when it came to giving help or pleasure to others.
Masaccio began painting at the time when Masolino da Panicale was working in the Brancacci Chapel in the Carmelite Church at Florence. Although he was a painter, as far as possible he followed in the steps of Filippo and Donatello; and he always tried to express in his figures the liveliness and beautiful animation of nature itself. His outlines and his painting were so modern and original that his works can be favourably compared with modern work for their design and colouring. He was extremely painstaking in his paintings and in the studies he made of the problems of perspective, in which he achieved very competent and impressive results, as can be seen in one of the histories he did, which is today in the house of Ridolfo del Ghirlandaio. In this picture, as well as a representation of Christ liberating a man possessed by demons, there are some very fine buildings drawn in perspective; and one can see simultaneously both the interior and the outside, because he chose the point of view not of the front but over the angles, as being the more difficult. Masaccio also made more use than other artists of nude and foreshortened figures, which indeed had rarely been seen before. He worked with great facility and, as I said, his draperies were very simple.
There is a panel picture in tempera by Masaccio showing Our Lady on the lap of St Anne with her son in her arms; this picture is today in Sant’Ambrogio at Florence, in the chapel by the door leading to the nuns’ parlour. And on the screen of the church of San Niccolò sopr’ Arno there is another of his panel pictures, in which as well as showing the Annunciation, with the angel and Our Lady, he painted a building with many columns very finely depicted in perspective. Apart from his perfect rendering of the lines, he demonstrated his understanding of perspective by shading his colours in such a way that the building seems gradually to disappear from view. In the abbey at Florence, in the niche of a pillar opposite those supporting the arch of the high altar, he did a fresco painting of St Ives of Brittany, who is seen from below with his feet foreshortened. This had never been done so well before and it won him no little praise. Underneath St Ives, above another cornice, he painted the widows, orphans, and beggars being helped by the saint in their need.
Below the choir in Santa Maria Novella he painted a fresco showing the Trinity, which is over the altar of St Ignatius and which has Our Lady on one side and St John the Evangelist on the other, contemplating the crucified Christ. At the sides are two kneeling figures, which as far as one can tell are portraits of those who commissioned the work, although they can scarcely be made out as they have been covered over with gold ornamentation. But the most beautiful thing, apart from the figures, is the barrel-vaulted ceiling drawn in perspective and divided into square compartments containing rosettes foreshortened and made to recede so skilfully that the surface looks as if it is indented. In Santa Maria Maggiore, in a chapel near the side door which leads towards San Giovanni, Masaccio also painted a panel picture showing Our Lady, St Catherine, and St Julian, and on the predella he painted several little figures illustrating scenes from the life of St Catherine, and St Julian killing his father and mother; in the middle he depicted the Nativity of Jesus Christ with characteristic simplicity and liveliness.
In the Carmelite Church at Pisa, inside a chapel in the transept, there is a panel painting by Masaccio showing the Virgin and Child, with some little angels at her feet who are playing instruments and one of whom is sounding a lute and inclining his ear very attentively to listen to the music he is making. Surrounding Our Lady are St Peter, St John the Baptist, St Julian, and St Nicholas, all very vivacious and animated. On the predella below are some small figures illustrating scenes from the lives of those saints, with the three Magi in the centre offering their gifts to Christ. In this section there are some horses so beautifully portrayed from life that nothing finer could be wished for; and the three kings’ court attendants are dressed in various clothes of the kind worn in those days. Above this panel picture is some ornamentation divided into several squares showing a crowd of saints gathered around a crucifix. It is believed that one of the figures, a saint in the robes of a bishop, which is painted in fresco by the side of the door leading to the convent, is also by Masaccio; but I am certain that it is by his pupil, Fra Filippo.1 After Masaccio had returned from Pisa to Florence he executed a panel picture showing two life-size nudes, a man and a woman, which is now in the Palla Rucellai Palace.
Later on, feeling rather discontented at Florence and prompted by his love and enthusiasm for painting, he determined to go to Rome in order to perfect his work and – as he succeeded in doing – make himself superior to all other painters. In Rome he became very famous, and he decorated a chapel for Cardinal San Clemente, in the church of San Clemente, painting in fresco the Passion of Our Lord, showing the crucified thieves and scenes of the martyrdom of St Catherine. He also painted a number of panel pictures in tempera, which were all either lost or destroyed during the troubles at Rome. He did another painting in the church of Santa Maria Maggiore, in a little chapel near the sacristy: it shows four saints, so skilfully painted that they look as though they are in relief, with Our Lady of the Snow1 in the middle, and a portrait from life of Pope Martin, who is marking the foundations of the church with a hoe and near to whom stands the Emperor Sigismund II. One day after Michelangelo and I had been studying this work he praised it very highly and remarked that those men had been contemporaries of Masaccio.
Pisanello and Gentile da Fabriano shared with Masaccio some of the work they
were doing on the walls of the church of San Giovanni for Pope Martin; but then he heard that Cosimo de’ Medici (whose support and favour he enjoyed) had been recalled from exile, and so he returned to Florence where he was commissioned to decorate the Brancacci Chapel of the Carmine, because of the death of Masolino da Panicale. Before he began this work, to show the progress he had made as a painter Masaccio painted the St Paul which is neat the bell-ropes. And he certainly excelled himself in this picture, where one can see in the head of the saint (which is a portrait from life of Bartolo di Angiolino Angiolini) so awe-inspiring an expression that the figure needs only speech to be alive. Anyone knowing nothing of St Paul has only to look at this painting to understand his greatness as a citizen of Rome and his saintly force of will, utterly dedicated to the propagation of the faith. In the same painting Masaccio showed his knowledge of the technique of foreshortening figures from below in a way that was truly marvellous, as may be seen today from his successful rendering of the feet of the Apostle, in contrast to the crude style of earlier times which, as I said a little while earlier, depicted every figure as if it were standing on tiptoe. This style persisted uncorrected until Masaccio’s time, and before anyone else he alone brought painting to the excellence we know today.
Lives of the Artists Page 13
