Works of Grant Allen

by Grant Allen

  Above, 241 and 242, are two good portraits of Vallombrosan monks by Perugino, who was largely employed in commissions for that monastery, and who painted for it his magnificent Assumption. The figures are those of the General of the Order, and of the Abbot of the monastery; and they stood originally at the side of the Assumption, looking up at the Virgin — whence their attitudes.

  Still higher is a Madonna and Child, by Fra Angelico, exhibiting advance in freedom of treatment over the more Giottesque model in 227. Compare these carefully.

  Number 249, etc., other little panels by Fra Angelico, contain a Pietà, Adoration of the Magi, etc., with scenes in the background.

  Beyond these, on the left, is a continuation of the Life of Christ. In the Raising of Lazarus, note the curious swathing of the mummy-like figure, which earlier still was represented as an actual mummy. The Entry into Jerusalem contains some excellent characters. The Washing of the Apostles’ feet betrays Fra Angelico’s lack of accurate knowledge in perspective and foreshortening. The Last Supper has points of resemblance with the mystic treatment in San Marco. In Christ before Pilate, notice once more the pure mediævalism of the treatment, as contrasted with such Roman and antiquarian touches as are given to similar scenes by Ghirlandajo and Filippino Lippi. The Jewish faces of the priests are admirably rendered. The Betrayal of Christ has the usual episode of Peter cutting off the ear of Malchus.

  FRA ANGELICO. — WAY TO CALVARY.

  In the next group, 253, note the scorpion tabards of the soldiers on the Way to Calvary, and the parting of the raiment. Beneath it, Christ in Limbo delivers Adam and Eve and the holy dead, among whom King David is conspicuous. Observe the red cross of the banner, universal in this subject, the usual demon crushed under the gate, and the others baffled in the left background. The Last Judgment beneath it, is interesting for comparison with the larger tabernacle on the end wall of this room. Observe the attitude of Christ, displaying His wounded hands in mercy, as in most representations of this subject, from the frescoes in the Campo Santo at Pisa onward. (Compare the fine Fra Bartolommeo and Mariotto Albertinelli in the Hospital of Santa Maria Nuova. A study of this subject, beginning at Pisa, and culminating in the Sistine Chapel, is most interesting.) Note the Madonna, apostles, and patriarchs, surrounding the Christ, and the sweet little angels below embracing the just, among whom a Dominican figure is conspicuous. The damned, to the left of the Saviour, display Fra Angelico’s usual inability to deal with what is not ecstatic and beautiful.

  The last set of the series, containing the Passion, Ascension, etc., is interesting (amongst other things) for its Descent of the Holy Ghost, with the various nations below hearing the apostles speak with tongues, which may be well compared with the fresco in the Spanish Chapel. Not one of these little scenes is without interest from the point of view of comparative treatment with others elsewhere. Go through them carefully, and note the prophetic verses.

  On the same wall, 247, the Dominican painter has also represented the School of the great Dominican teacher, St. Thomas Aquinas, with the three discomfited heretics (Averrhoes, Sabellius, Guillaume de St. Amour) at his feet as usual. Compare the Benozzo Gozzoli in the Louvre.

  Above this, 246, is a fine Deposition, with a few adoring saints who do not belong to the subject. Amongst them, to the left, is conspicuous St. Dominic. This picture belonged to a religious body which accompanied condemned criminals to the scaffold.

  On the end wall, 257, are two stories from the lives of St. Cosimo and St. Damian, by Fra Angelico. They fix the leg of a dead Moor to a sick white man, on whom they have practised amputation. Below, their burial with their three brethren: in the background, a somewhat imaginative camel, denoting foreignness and orientalism.

  The dainty little Annunciation by Ghirlandajo, above, should be noticed.

  Number 260 is a Simone Bolognese, an extremely rude but interesting picture of the Nativity, where the star, the attitude of the ass, the shepherd hearing the angels, and the very unreal sheep in the foreground should all be noted. The wattles and saddle are characteristic of the subject.

  Above it is a charming early Tabernacle, 259, fourteenth century, with the Madonna and Child, which may be well compared both with Giotto and Fra Angelico. On the wings above, an Annunciation, with the Madonna and angel separated as usual: notice this arrangement, which often recurs. Beneath is a Crucifixion; with St. John the Baptist, St. Catherine and other saints. This is one of the most beautiful tabernacles of its period: its fine work should be observed.

  FRA ANGELICO. — LAST JUDGMENT.

  Number 266, *Fra Angelico’s celebrated Last Judgment, may be well compared with the Orcagna in Santa Maria. In the centre above is Christ in a mandorla, surrounded by adoring angels whose symbolical colours and various hierarchies you will find explained by Mrs. Jameson. Beneath are the angels of the last trump; right and left of the Saviour, the Madonna and St. John the Baptist; then, the apostles and patriarchs, with their symbols, among whom may be noted also St. Dominic on the extreme left and St. Francis on the extreme right, with other monastic founders, especially of Florentine or neighbouring bodies (Vallombrosans, Camaldolesi). The terrestrial scene has for its centre a vault or cemetery, with open empty tombs from which the dead have risen. (See also at Pisa.) To the left (the Saviour’s right as usual) are the blessed risen, welcomed and embraced by charming little angels, who lead them onward as in a mazy dance to the Heavenly City. The robes and orders of the monks should be observed, as also the various grades of popes, bishops, and other ecclesiastical functionaries. Note that this is essentially a representative assemblage of the Church Triumphant, in which, it must be admitted, the lay element figures but sparingly. To the right, the damned are being hurried away to hell by demons. Among them are not only the great and mighty of the earth, — kings, queens, etc., — but also false monks who loved money better than their profession, as typified by the bag around the neck of one in the foreground. Every one of these lost souls also is representative. Note the bats’ faces and wings of the demons. To the extreme right is Hell, divided into the usual mediæval regions, and best explained by reference to Dante. (See also the Orcagna at Santa Maria Novella.) The personal devil devouring souls below recalls the figure in the Campo Santo at Pisa. Do not overlook the jaws of death.

  Every detail of this interesting picture should be noted and carefully studied. Nothing can be lovelier than the scene of angelic peace on the right; few things uglier than the opposite torments, attributed, as usual, to another hand. The picture comes from the monastery degli Angeli in Florence, whence the large and charming part assigned in it to angels.

  Above it, in 265, Madonna and Child with saints, by Fra Angelico, compare the cupola and niches, from the point of view of evolution, with those of the large picture almost opposite. To the left is a group of Franciscan saints, Anthony of Padua, Louis of Toulouse, and Francis (it comes from a Franciscan retreat at Mugello). To the right are the Medici saints, Cosimo and Damian, and St. Peter Martyr. The child is here nude, a rare case with Fra Angelico. Note always this point, and observe its early occurrences.

  Close by, 268 and 269, two little panels of the sixteenth century, are interesting for their treatment of the Annunciation, and St. Thomas Aquinas and St. Dominic.

  On the left wall, 272, is an interesting St. Elizabeth of Hungary, sheltering under her mantle her votaries. The arrangement of the mantle and the angels who sustain it should be noted as characteristic of similar subjects, common elsewhere.

  By the window wall are several early panel pieces, the most interesting of which is 277, with St. Francis receiving the Stigmata, where the seraph, saint, Brother Leo, and attendant buildings, are all characteristic. Compare the Giotto in another room in this building. The St. Paul on the way to Damascus is a less usual subject, interestingly treated. Note that the sword has not been forgotten.

  Number 277, another St. Francis receiving the Stigmata, closely resembles the picture in the Louvre of the same subject. Co
mpare all the examples of this theme in the present gallery, noting the position of the seraph-winged Christ, the buildings, etc.

  Number 281 is a Fra Angelico, another Madonna and Child, with characteristic angels. In the foreground, with its singular early Romanesque mosaic (which should be carefully noted), are the Medici saints kneeling. To the right are the two great Dominicans, St. Dominic and Peter Martyr, with St. Francis; to the left, St. Lawrence, St. John the Baptist, St. Stephen.

  This is a fine altar-piece, though greatly damaged. Note always whether the Christ holds a globe, a goldfinch, or a pomegranate.

  In the next window, a series of stories by Granacci are sufficiently described by their labels, but worthy of all attention.

  On the easel, 263, is a Filippo Lippi, the Annunciation (curiously divided), and St. John the Baptist of Florence. This is a single shutter, with the other half in 264, where St. Antony balances the Baptist.

  In 291, a Trinity of the fifteenth century, notice, in the predella, the arrangement of the arcade in the Annunciation, with the garden in the background; right and left angelic subjects; St. Michael and the Dragon, St. Raphael and Tobias. The delicious naïveté of the last is worthy of attention.

  FILIPPO LIPPI. — ANNUNCIATION.

  It is impossible to enter in detail into all the works in this small room, with its rich collection of early panel pictures. The visitor should return to them again and again, spelling out their further meaning for himself by the light of the hints here given, or the official catalogue. But the more you make out for yourself, the better. Remember that every figure is identifiable, and that each in every case has then and there its special meaning. Fully to understand these, you should afterward consult either the catalogue, or, still better, the description of the principal pictures in Lafenestre’s “Florence.” Also, I cannot too strongly recommend that you should go from one picture of a subject to another of the same in this collection, observing the chronology of the works, and the evidences which they show of progress in art-evolution. As a single example of what I mean, take the Annunciations in this Gallery, and follow them out carefully. Or again, look at the group of saints on either side of the Saviour in 266. Note here on the left the white starry robe of the Madonna, as Queen of Heaven. Next her, St. Peter with his conventional features, and his two keys of gold and iron. Then, beside him, Moses, distinguishable by his horns of light and by the Hebrew inscription on the tablets he carries. In the opposite group, observe similarly, in the place of honour, St. Paul with his sword, close beside the Baptist, behind whom stands St. Agnes with her lamb, and next to her, King David. Above St. Dominic, once more, to the extreme left of the group, the dove whispering at his ear marks the figure of St. Gregory; close by whom the deacon with the palm of martyrdom and the bleeding head is seen to be St. Stephen. I will not go through the whole of this interesting group, but attentive study of the symbols will enable you to identify every one of them. Do not be satisfied with your study of the picture until you are sure that you have understood all its details. If it was worth Fra Angelico’s while to discriminate them by signs, it is surely worth your while to spend a few seconds each over them. A useful little book for identifying saints, which also gives you an account of the robes of the various monastic orders, is Miss Greene’s “Saints and Their Symbols.” You can get it at any bookseller’s in Florence. You cannot do better than test this picture by the light so thrown upon it.

  Again, in 254, the Entombment, notice the positions of the Crown of Thorns and the nails in the foreground, upon which equal stress is laid in the great Descent from the Cross by the same painter, which stands on the easel beside Gentile da Fabriano’s Adoration of the Magi. Recollect in this connection the importance given to these relics from the thirteenth century onward, by their purchase from the Emperor of the East by St. Louis of France, who had erected the Sainte Chapelle on purpose to contain them. The legend of their preservation had therefore great prominence in the thirteenth, fourteenth, and early fifteenth centuries, and it was important that illustrations of the subject should contain some reference to the mode in which these much-revered relics were saved for the adoration of posterity. I offer this hint merely to show the way in which legend and doctrine reacted upon art in the Middle Ages. Look similarly for the nails in the Descent from the Cross by Filippino Lippi and Perugino in the second Botticelli Room, and in Botticelli’s Madonna, 88, in the same room, where an angel holds them as well as the Crown of Thorns. You will find in like manner that the series of the Life of Christ by Fra Angelico in this room has in each case above the picture a prophecy from the Old Testament, and below, a verse supposed to be its fulfilment from the New. The more you observe these facts for yourself, the better will you understand both the details introduced into the pictures themselves and the reason for their selection. Mediæval art embodies a dogmatic theology and a theory of life and practice. It can never be fully comprehended without some attention to these facts which condition it.

  Visit the Belle Arti often: it contains, on the whole, the finest pictures in Florence. When you have got beyond these notes, go on with Lafenestre; or else buy the official catalogue, which is in very easy Italian; it gives you always the original place for which the pictures were painted. Do not be satisfied till you understand them all. And compare, as you go, with the frescoes in churches and the works in the Uffizi. The way to comprehend early art is by comparison.

  VOLUME II.

  BENVENUTO CELLINI. — PERSEUS.

  CHAPTER I.

  THE PIAZZA DELLA SIGNORIA.

  The centre of modern Florence is occupied by the Piazza della Signoria, which contains the Palazzo Vecchio and the Loggia dei Lanzi. This square was once the Forum of the Republic, and around it revolved the political and social life of early Florence.

  In the thirteenth century the Bargello (to be visited later) was the seat of the Florentine Government. But in 1298, about the same time when Santa Croce and the Cathedral were rising above their foundations, the City began to feel the want of a second stronghold for its new democratic (or oligarchic) authorities, and of a fitting hall for its deliberative assemblies. In that year, therefore, the Signoria commissioned the great Arnolfo di Cambio, who was already engaged in building the Duomo, to begin the erection of a vast castle, now known as the Palazzo Vecchio. It was evidently based in idea upon the Palazzo Pubblico in the rival town of Siena, the foundations of which appear to have been laid some nine years earlier. The greater part of the building as it now stands represents Arnolfo’s original work, though the upper portion of the slender tower is of the fifteenth century, while the façade toward the Via del Leone at the back was added by Vasari in 1540. The courtyard and porch have also suffered great alterations.

  The Palazzo Vecchio in its original form was strictly the Castle of the Guilds of Florence, which had imposed their rule in the thirteenth century over the whole city. It was, in short, the stronghold of the commercial oligarchy. The early government of Florence had been mainly aristocratic, and all its functions were performed by the nobles; but by 1282, the Arts or Guilds, among which the Wool-Weavers and Silk-Workers were the most important members, had gained possession of the executive power, which they entrusted to their own Priori or Guild-Masters. The body thus installed in the Palazzo Vecchio was known as the Signoria: it retained power in Florence until the gradual rise of the democratic despotism of the Medici, a wealthy commercial family who favoured the people, and finally made themselves, in the sixteenth century, Grand Dukes of Tuscany. (See Villari.) The fortress-like appearance of the Palace is due to the fact that the commercial oligarchy had to hold its own by force within the city against the great nobles on the one hand, and popular rising on the other. All Florence, in fact, is clearly built with a constant eye to internal warfare.

  In 1376 the Piazza della Signoria was further decorated by the erection of the Loggia dei Lanzi, a magnificent vaulted arcade for the performance of public functions before the eyes of the citizens. Th
is noble building was perhaps designed by Orcagna, but was certainly carried out by Benci di Cione and Simone di Francesco Talenti. It exhibits the same curious combination of round arches with Gothic detail which is also seen in the neighbouring church of Or San Michele — the chapel of the Guilds. The arcade was known at first as the Loggia de’ Priori or della Signoria; it gained its present name under Cosimo I., who stationed here his German lance-men.

  I do not advise a visit to the interior of the Palazzo Vecchio until after you have seen everything else of importance in Florence, when Baedeker’s account will be amply sufficient. But a cursory inspection of the exterior, and of the general features of the Piazza, is necessary to an understanding of Florentine history. As you will already have seen in the picture at San Marco, Savonarola was burnt at the stake in this square, near the spot now occupied by the Fountain of Neptune.