Masters of Art - Albrecht Dürer

by Dürer, Albrecht

  CHAPTER III.

  The Journey to Venice. — Bellini’s Friendship. — Letters to Pirkheimer.— “The Feast of Rose Garlands.” — Bologna.— “Adam and Eve.”— “The Coronation of the Virgin.”

  Late in 1505 Dürer made a journey to Venice, probably with a view to recover his health, enlarge his circle of friends and patrons, and study the famous Venetian paintings. He was worn down by continuous hard work, and weary of the dull uneventfulness of his life, and hailed an opportunity to rest in sunny Italy. He borrowed money from Pirkheimer for his journey, and left a small sum for family expenses during his absence. Between Nuremberg and her rich Southern rival there was a large commerce, with a weekly post; and many German merchants and artists were then residing in Venice. Dürer rode down on horseback; and suffered an attack of illness at Stein, near Laibach, where he rewarded the artist who had nursed him by painting a picture on the wall of his house. On arriving at Venice, the master was cordially received, and highly honored by the chief artists and literati of the city. The heads of Venetian art at that time were Giovanni Bellini and Carpaccio, both of whom were advanced in years; and Giorgione and Titian, who were not mentioned by our traveller, though they were both at work for the Fondaco de’ Tedeschi at the same time as himself.

  During his residence in Venice he wrote nine long letters to “the honorable and wise Herr Willibald Pirkheimer, Burgher of Nuremberg,” which were walled up in the Imhoff mansion during the Thirty Years’ War, and discovered at a later age. Much of these letters is taken up with details about Pirkheimer’s commissions for precious stones and books, or with badinage about the burgher’s private life, with frequent allusions to the support of the Dürers at home. Of greater interest are the accounts of the writer’s successes in art, and the friends whom he met in Venetian society. The letters were embellished with rude caricatures and grotesques, matching the broad humor of the jovial allusions in the text. Either Pirkheimer was a man of most riotous life, or Dürer was a bold and pertinacious jester, unwearying in mock-earnest reproofs. These letters were sealed with the Dürer crest, composed of a pair of open doors above three steps on a shield, which was a punning allusion to the name Dürer, or Thürer, Thür being the German word for door. In the second letter he says, —

  “I wish you were in Venice. There are many fine fellows among the painters, who get more and more friendly with me; it holds one’s heart up. Well-brought-up folks, good lute-players, skilled pipers, and many noble and excellent people, are in the company, all wishing me very well, and being very friendly. On the other hand, here are the falsest, most lying, thievish villains in the whole world, appearing to the unwary the pleasantest possible fellows. I laugh to myself when they try it with me: the fact is, they know their rascality is public, though one says nothing. I have many good friends among the Italians, who warn me not to eat or drink with their painters; for many of them are my enemies, and copy my picture in the church, and others of mine wherever they meet with them; and yet, notwithstanding this, they abuse my works, and say that they are not according to ancient art, and therefore not good. But Gian Bellini has praised me highly before several gentlemen, and he wishes to have something of my painting. He came himself, and asked me to do something for him, saying that he would pay me well for it; and all the people here tell me what a good man he is, so that I also am greatly inclined to him.”

  These sentences show the artist’s pleasure at the kindly way in which the Italians received him, and also reveal the danger in which he stood of being poisoned by jealous rivals. Another ambiguous sentence has given rise to the belief that Dürer had visited Venice eleven years previously, during his Wander-jahre.

  Camerarius says that Bellini was so amazed and delighted at the exquisite fineness of Dürer’s painting, especially of hair, that he begged him to give him the brush with which he had done such delicate work. The Nuremberger offered him any or all of his brushes, but Bellini asked again for the one with which he had painted the hair; upon which Dürer took one of his common brushes, and painted a long tress of woman’s hair. Bellini reported that he would not have believed such marvellous work possible, if he had not seen it himself.

  The third letter describes the adventures of the inexpert artist in securing certain sapphires, amethysts, and emeralds for his “dear Herr Pirkheimer,” and complains that the money earned by painting was all swallowed up by living expenses. The jealous Venetian painters had also forced him, by process of law, to pay money to their art-schools.

  His brother Hans was now sixteen years old, and had become a source of responsibility, for Dürer adds: “With regard to my brother, tell my mother to speak to Wohlgemuth, and see whether he wants him, or will give him work till I return, or to others, so that he may help himself. I would willingly have brought him with me to Venice, which would have been useful to him and to me, and also on account of his learning the language; but my mother was afraid that the heavens would fall upon him and upon me too. I pray you, have an eye to him yourself: he is lost with the women-folk. Speak to the boy as you well know how to do, and bid him behave well and learn diligently until I return, and not be a burden to the mother; for I cannot do every thing, although I will do my best.”

  In the fourth letter he speaks of having traded his pictures for jewels, and sends greetings to his friend Baumgärtner, saying also: “Know that by the grace of God I am well, and that I am working diligently.... I wish that it suited you to be here. I know you would find the time pass quickly, for there are many agreeable people here, very good amateurs; and I have sometimes such a press of strangers to visit me, that I am obliged to hide myself; and all the gentlemen wish me well, but very few of the painters.”

  The fifth letter opens with a long complimentary flourish in a barbarous mixture of Italian and Spanish, and then chaffs Pirkheimer unmercifully for his increasing intrigues. It also thanks Pirkheimer for trying to placate Agnes Frey, who is evidently much disappointed because her husband lingers so long at Venice. The Prior Eucharius is besought to pray that Dürer might be delivered from the new and terrible “French disease,” then fatally prevalent in Italy. Mention is made of Andreas, the goldsmith, Dürer’s brother, meeting him at Venice, and borrowing money to relieve his distress.

  The next letter starts off with quaint mock-deference, and alludes to the splendid Venetian soldiery, and their contempt of the Emperor. Farther on are unintelligible allusions, and passages too vulgar for translation. He says that the Doge and Patriarch had visited his studio to inspect the new picture, and that he had effectually silenced the artists who claimed that he was only good at engraving, and could not use colors. Soon afterwards he writes about the completion of his great painting of the Rose Garlands; and says, “There is no better picture of the Virgin Mary in the land, because all the artists praise it, as well as the nobility. They say they have never seen a more sublime, a more charming painting.” He adds that he had declined orders to the amount of over 2,000 ducats, in order to return home, and was then engaged in finishing a few portraits.

  The last letter congratulates Pirkheimer on his political successes, but expresses a fear lest “so great a man will never go about the streets again talking with the poor painter Dürer, — with a poltroon of a painter.” In response to Pirkheimer’s threat of making love to his wife if he remained away longer, he said that if such was done, he might keep Agnes until her death. He also tells how he had been attending a dancing-school, but could not learn the art, and retired in disgust after two lessons.

  The picture which Dürer painted for the Fondaco de’ Tedeschi was until recently supposed to be a “St. Bartholomew;” but it is now believed that it was the renowned “Feast of Rose Garlands,” which is now at the Bohemian Monastery of Strahow. He worked hard on this picture for seven months, and was proud of its beauty and popularity. The Emperor Rudolph II. bought it from the church in which it was set up, and had it carried on men’s shoulders all the way from Venice to Prague, to avoid the dangers a
ttending other modes of conveyance. When Joseph II. sold his pictures, in 1782, this one was bought by the Abbey of Strahow, and remained buried in oblivion for three-quarters of a century. The picture shows the Virgin sitting under a canopy and a star-strewn crown held by flying cherubs, with the graceful Child in her lap. She is placing a crown of roses on the head of the Emperor Maximilian, while Jesus places another on the head of the Pope; and a monk on one side is similarly honored by St. Dominic, the founder of the Feast of the Rose Garlands. A multitude of kneeling men and women on either side are being crowned with roses by merry little child-angels, flying through the air; while on the extreme right, Dürer and Pirkheimer are seen standing by a tree.

  Pirkheimer and Agnes had both been urging the master to return; but he seemed reluctant to exchange the radiance of Italy for the quietness of his home-circle, and mournfully exclaims, “Oh, how I shall freeze after this sunshine! Here I am a gentleman, at home only a parasite!” A brilliant career was open before him at Venice, whose Government offered him a pension of 200 ducats; but his sense of duty compelled him to return to Germany, though in bitterness of spirit. Before turning Northward he rode to Bologna, “because some one there will teach me the secret art of perspective” (Francesco Francia); and met Christopher Scheurl, who greatly admired him. A year later Raphael also came to Bologna, and saw some works left there by Dürer, from which arose an intimate correspondence and exchanges of pictures between the artists. The master had been invited to visit the venerable Mantegna, at Mantua; but that Nestor of North-Italian art died before the plan was carried out. Dürer afterwards told Camerarius that this death “caused him more grief than any mischance that had befallen him during his life.”

  Art-critics agree in rejoicing that Dürer conquered the temptations which were held out to him from the gorgeous Italian city, and returned to his plain life in the cold North. He escaped the danger of sacrificing his individualism to the glowing and sensuous Venetian school of art, and preserved the quaintness and vigor of his own Gothic inspirations for the joy of future ages.

  The marine backgrounds in many of Dürer’s later pictures are referred by Ruskin to the artist’s pleasant memories of Venice, “where he received the rarest of all rewards granted to a good workman; and, for once in his life, was understood.” Other and wilder landscapes in his woodcuts were reminiscences of the pastoral regions of the Franconian Switzerland.

  The personal history of Dürer between 1507 and 1520 was barren of details, but evidently full of earnest work, as existing pictures bear witness. It was the golden period of his art-life, abounding in productiveness. His workshop was the seat of the chief art-school in Nuremberg, and contained many excellent young painters and engravers, to whom the master delivered his wise axioms and earnest thoughts in rich profusion.

  During this period, also, he probably executed certain of his best works in carving, which are hereinafter described. Dr. Thausing denies that Dürer used the chisel of the sculptor to any extent, and refuses to accept the genuineness of the carvings which the earlier biographers have attributed to him. Scott is of the opinion that in most cases these rich and delicate works were executed by other persons, either from his drawings or under his inspection.

  On his return from Venice, Dürer painted life-sized nude figures of Adam and Eve, representing them with the fatal apple in their hands, at the moment of the Fall. They are well designed in outline, but possess a certain anatomical hardness, lacking in grace and mobility. They were greatly admired by the Nurembergers, in whose Rath-haus they were placed; but were at length presented to the Emperor Rudolph II. He replaced them with copies, which Napoleon, in 1796, supposed to be Dürer’s original works, and removed to Paris. He afterwards presented them to the town of Mayence, where they are still exhibited as Dürer’s. The true originals passed into Spain, where they were first redeemed from oblivion by Passavant, about the year 1853. A copy of the Adam and Eve, which was executed in Dürer’s studio and under his care, is now at the Pitti Palace.

  In the spring of 1507 Dürer met at the house of his brother-in-law Jacob Frey, the rich Frankfort merchant Jacob Heller, who commissioned him to paint an altar-piece. He was delayed by a prolonged attack of fever in the summer, and by the closing works on the Elector’s picture.

  Between 1507 and 1514 (inclusive) Dürer made forty-eight engravings and etchings, and over a hundred woodcuts, bespeaking an iron diligence and a remarkable power of application. The rapid sale of these works in frequent new editions gave a large income to their author, and placed him in a comfortable position among the burghers of Nuremberg. The religious excitement then prevailing throughout Europe, on the eve of the Reformation, increased the demand for his engravings of the Virgin, the saints, and the great Passion series.

  In 1508 Dürer finished the painting of “The Martyrdom of the Ten Thousand Christians,” to which he professed to have given all his time for a year. It was ordered by Frederick of Saxony, the patron of Lucas Cranach, who had seen the master’s woodcut of the same subject, and desired it reproduced in an oil-painting. It is a painful and unpleasant scene, full of brutality and horror; and the picture is devoid of unity, though conspicuous for clear and brilliant coloring. Dürer and Pirkheimer stand in the middle of the foreground.

  On the completion of this work the master wrote to Heller, “No one shall persuade me to work according to what I am paid.” He then began Heller’s altar-piece, under unnecessary exhortation “to paint his picture well,” and made a great number of careful studies for the new composition. When fairly under way, he demanded 200 florins for his work instead of the 130 florins of the contract-price, which drew an angry answer from the frugal merchant, with accusations of dishonesty. The artist rejoined sharply, dwelling upon the great cost of the colors and the length of the task, yet offering to carry out his contract in order to save his good faith. Throughout the next year Heller stimulated the painter to hasten his work, until Dürer became angry, and threw up the commission. He was soon induced to resume it, and completed the picture in the summer of 1509, upon which the delighted merchant paid him gladly, and sent handsome presents to his wife and brother. Dürer wrote to Heller, “It will last fresh and clean for five hundred years, for it is not done as ordinary paintings are.... But no one shall ever again persuade me to undertake a painting with so much work in it. Herr Jorg Tauss offered himself to pay me 400 florins for a Virgin in a landscape, but I declined positively, for I should become a beggar by this means. Henceforward I will stick to my engraving; and, if I had done so before, I should be richer by a thousand florins than I am to-day.”

  The picture which caused so much argument and toil was “The Coronation of the Virgin,” which was set up over the bronze monument of the Heller family in the Dominican Church at Frankfort. Its exquisite delicacy of execution attracted great crowds to the church, and quickly enriched the monastery. Singularly enough, the most famous part of the picture was the sole of the foot of one of the kneeling Apostles, which was esteemed such a marvellous work that great sums were offered to have it cut out of the canvas. The Emperor Rudolph II. offered the immense amount of 10,000 florins for the painting, in vain; but in 1613 it passed into the possession of Maximilian of Bavaria, and was destroyed in the burning of the palace at Munich, sixty years later. So the renowned picture, which Dürer said gave him “more joy and satisfaction than any other he ever undertook,” passed away, leaving no engraving or other memorial, save a copy by Paul Juvenal. This excellent reproduction is now at Nuremberg, and is provided with the original wings, beautifully painted by Dürer, showing on one the portrait of Jacob Heller and the death of St. James, and on the other Heller’s wife, and the martyrdom of St. Catherine.

  In 1501 the burgher Schiltkrot and the pious copper-smith Matthäus Landäuer founded the House of the Twelve Brothers, an alms-house for poor old men of Nuremberg; and eight years later, Landäuer ordered Dürer to paint an altar-piece of “The Adoration of the Trinity,” for its chapel. Much of t
he master’s time for the next two years was devoted to this great work.

  CHAPTER IV.

  Dürer’s House. — His Poetry. — Sculptures. — The Great and Little Passions. — Life of the Virgin. — Plagiarists. — Works for the Emperor Maximilian.

  Some time after his marriage with Agnes Frey, Dürer moved into the new house near the Thiergärtner Gate, which had perhaps been bought with the dowry of his bride. Here he labored until his death, and executed his most famous works. It is a spacious house, with a lower story of stone, wide portals, a paved interior court, and pleasant upper rooms between thick half-timber walls, whose mullioned windows look out on lines of quaint Gothic buildings and towers, and on the broad paved square at the foot of the Zisselgasse (now Albrecht-Dürer-Strasse). Just across the square was the so-called “Pilate’s House,” whose owner, Martin Koetzel, had made two pilgrimages to the Holy Land, and brought back measurements of the Dolorous Way. The artist’s house is now carefully preserved as public property, and contains the gallery of the Dürer Art-Union. In 1828, on the third centennial of his death, the people erected a bronze statue of the master, designed by Rauch, on the square before the house.

  In 1509-10 Dürer derived pleasure and furnished much amusement to his friends from verse-making, in which he suffered a worse failure even than Raphael had done. It seems that Pirkheimer ridiculed a long-drawn couplet which he had made, upon which the master composed a neat bit of proverbial philosophy, of which the following is a translation: —

  “Strive earnestly with all thy might,

  That God should give thee Wisdom’s light;

  He doth his wisdom truly prove,