Masters of Art - Albrecht Dürer

by Dürer, Albrecht

  Whom neither death nor riches move;

  And he shall also be called wise,

  Who joy and sorrow both defies;

  He who bears both honor and shame,

  He well deserves the wise man’s name;

  Who knows himself, and evil shuns,

  In Wisdom’s path he surely runs;

  Who ‘gainst his foe doth vengeance cherish,

  In hell-flame cloth his wisdom perish;

  Who strives against the Devil’s might,

  The Lord will help him in the fight;

  Who keeps his heart forever pure,

  He of Wisdom’s crown is sure;

  And who loves God with all his heart,

  Chooses the wise and better part.”

  But Pirkheimer was not more pleased with this; and the witty Secretary Spengler sent Dürer a satirical poem, applying the moral of the fable of the shoemaker who criticised a picture by Apelles. He answered this in a song of sixty lines, closing with, —

  “Therefore I will still make rhymes,

  Though my friend may laugh at times:

  So the Painter with hairy beard

  Says to the Writer who mocked and jeered.”

  “1510, this have I made on Good and Bad Friends.” Thus the master prefaces a platitudinous poem of thirty lines; which was soon followed by “The Teacher,” of sixty lines. Later in the year he wrote the long Passion-Song, which was appended to the print of Christus am Kreuz. It is composed of eight sections, of ten lines each, and is full of quaint mediæval tenderness and reverence, and the intense prayerfulness of the old German faith. The sections are named Matins, the First, Third, Sixth, and Ninth Hours, Vespers, Compline, and Let Us Pray, the latter of which is redolent with earnest devotion: —

  “O Almighty Lord and God,

  Who the martyr’s press hast trod;

  Jesus, the only God, the Son,

  Who all this to Thyself hast done,

  Keep it before us to-day and to-morrow,

  Give us continual rue and sorrow;

  Wash me clean, and make me well,

  I pray Thee, like a soul from hell.

  Lord, Thou hast overcome: look down;

  Let us at last to share the crown.”

  The marvellous high-relief of “The Birth of St. John the Baptist” was executed in 1510, and shows Dürer’s remarkable powers as a sculptor. It is cut in a block of cream-colored lithographic stone, 7½ × 5½ inches in size, and is full of rich and minute pictorial details. Elizabeth is rising in bed, aided by two attendants; and the old nurse brings the infant to Zacharias, who writes its name on a tablet, while two men are entering at the doorway. The room is furnished with the usual utensils and properties of a German bedroom. This wonderful and well-preserved work of art was bought in the Netherlands about eighty years ago, for $2,500, and is now in the British Museum. The companion-piece, “St. John the Baptist Preaching in the Wilderness,” is now in the Brunswick Museum, and is carved with a similar rich effect. This museum also contains a carving in wood, representing the “Ecce Homo.”

  Space would fail to tell of the many beautiful little pieces of sculpture which Dürer executed in ivory, boxwood, and stone, or of the numerous excellently designed medals ascribed to him. Chief among these was the exquisite “Birth of Christ,” and the altar of agate, formerly at Vienna; Adam and Eve, in wood, at Gotha; reliefs of the Birth and the Agony of Christ, in ivory; the Four Evangelists, in boxwood, lately at Baireuth; several carvings on ivory, of religious scenes, at Munich; a woman with padlocked mouth, sitting in the stocks, cut in soapstone; a delicate relief of the Flight into Egypt; busts of the Duke and Duchess of Burgundy; and the Love-Fountain, now at Dresden, with figures of six persons drinking the water.

  The famous painting of “The Adoration of the Trinity” was finished in 1511, and represents God the Father holding up His crucified Son for the worship of an immense congregation of saints, while overhead is the mystic Dove, surrounded by a circle of winged cherubs’ heads. The kneeling multitude includes princes, prelates, warriors, burghers, and peasants, equally accepting the Athanasian dogma. On the left is a great group of female saints, led by the sweet and stately Virgin Mary; and on the right are the kneeling prophets and apostles, Moses with the tables of the Law, and David with his harp. On the broad terrestrial landscape, far below, Dürer stands alone, by a tall tablet bearing the Latin inscription of his name and the date of the picture. The whole scene is full of light and splendor, delicate beauty of angels, and exquisite minuteness of finish. A century later the Rath of Nuremberg removed this picture from the sepulchral chapel of its founder, and presented it to the Emperor Rudolph II. It is now one of the gems of the Vienna Belvedere.

  About this time the master’s brother Andreas, the goldsmith, returned to Nuremberg after his long wanderings, and eased the evident anxiety of his family by settling respectably in life. Hans was still in his brother’s studio, where he learned his art so well that he afterwards became court-painter to the King of Poland.

  In 1511 Dürer published a third edition of the engravings of the Apocalypse, with a warning to piratical engravers that the Emperor had forbidden the sale of copies or impressions other than those of the author, within the Empire, under heavy penalties to transgressors. To the same year belong three of the master’s greatest works in engraving on wood.

  “The Great Passion” contains twelve folio woodcuts, unequal in their execution, and probably made by different workmen of varying abilities. The vignette is an “Ecce Homo;” and the other subjects are, the Last Supper, Christ at Gethsemane, His Betrayal, the Scourging, the Mockery, Christ Bearing the Cross, the Crucifixion, the Descent into Hell, the Maries Mourning over Christ’s Body, the Entombment, and the Resurrection. These powerful delineations of the Agony of Our Lord are characterized by rare originality of conception, pathos, and grandeur. They were furnished with Latin verses by the monk Chelidonius, and bore the imperial warning against imitation. Four large editions were printed from these cuts, and numerous copies, especially in Italy, where the Emperor’s edict was inoperative.

  “The Little Passion” was a term applied by Dürer himself to distinguish his series of thirty-seven designs from the larger pictures of “The Great Passion.” It is the best-known of the master’s engravings; and has been published in two editions at Nuremberg, a third at Venice in 1612, and a fourth at London in 1844. The blocks are now in the British Museum, and show plainly that they were not engraved by Dürer. This great pictorial scene of the fall and redemption of man begins with the sin of Adam and Eve, and their expulsion from Eden, and follows with thirty-three compositions from the life and passion of Christ, ending with the Descent of the Holy Ghost and the Last Judgment. Its title was Figuræ Passionis Domini Nostri Jesu Christi; and it was furnished with a set of the Latin verses of Chelidonius.

  The third of Dürer’s great works in wood-engraving was “The Life of the Virgin,” with explanatory Latin verses by the Benedictine Chelidonius. This was published in 1511, and contains twenty pictures, full of realistic plainness and domestic homeliness, yet displaying marvellous skill and power of invention. To the same year belong the master’s engravings of the Trinity, St. Christopher, St. Gregory’s Mass, St. Jerome, St. Francis Receiving the Stigmata, the Holy Family with the Guitar, Herodias and the Head of John the Baptist, and the Adoration of the Magi; and the copper-plates of the Crucifixion and the Virgin with the Pear.

  Dürer was much afflicted by the boldness of many imitators, who plagiarized his engravings without stint, and flooded the market with pictures from his designs. His rights were protected but poorly by the edicts of the Emperor and the city of Nuremberg; and a swarm of parasitical copyists reproduced every fresh design as soon as it was published. Marc Antonio Raimondi, the great Italian engraver who worked so many years with Raphael, was the most dangerous of these plagiarists, and reproduced “The Little Passion” and “The Life of the Virgin” in a most exquisite manner, close after their publicat
ion. Vasari says, “It happened that at this time certain Flemings came to Venice with a great many prints, engraved both in wood and copper by Albert Dürer, which being seen by Marc Antonio in the Square of St. Mark, he was so much astonished by their style of execution, and the skill displayed by Albert, that he laid out on those prints almost all the money he had brought with him from Bologna, and amongst other things purchased ‘The Passion of Jesus Christ,’ engraved on thirty-six wooden blocks.... Marc Antonio therefore, having considered how much honor as well as advantage might be acquired by one who should devote himself to that art in Italy, resolved to attend to it with the greatest diligence, and immediately began to copy these engravings of Albert, studying their mode of hatching, and every thing else in the prints he had purchased, which from their novelty as well as beauty, were in such repute that every one desired to possess them.”

  It appears that Marc Antonio was afterwards enjoined from using Dürer’s monogram on his copies of the Nuremberger’s engravings, either by imperial diplomatic representations to the Italian courts, or else as the result of a visit which some claim that Dürer made to Italy for that purpose. Many of the copies of Marc Antonio were rather idealized adaptations than exact reproductions of the German’s designs, but were furnished with the forged monogram A. D., and sold for Dürer’s works. Sixty-nine of our artist’s engravings were copied by the skilful Italian, profoundly influencing Southern art by the manual dexterity of the North. This wholesale piracy was carried on between 1505 and 1511, and before Marc Antonio passed under Raphael’s overmastering influence.

  In later years the Rath of Nuremberg warned the booksellers of the city against selling false copies of Dürer’s engravings, and sent letters to the authorities of Augsburg, Leipsic, Frankfort, Strasbourg, and Antwerp, asking them to put a stop to such sales within their jurisdictions. His works have been copied by more than three hundred artists, the best of whom were Solis, Rota, the Hopfers, Wierx, Vischer, Schön, and Kraus.

  In 1512 Dürer made most of the plates for “The Passion in Copper,” a series of sixteen engravings on copper, which was begun in 1507 and finished in 1513. These plates show the terrible scenes of the last griefs of the Saviour, surrounded with uncouth German men and women, buildings and landscapes, yet permeated with mysterious reverence and solemn simplicity. The series was never published in book form, with descriptive text, but the engravings were put forth singly as soon as completed. The prints of “Christ Bound” and “St. Jerome” were published this same year.

  In 1512 Dürer was first employed by the Emperor Maximilian, who was not only a patron of the arts but also an artist himself, and munificently employed the best painters of Germany, though his treasury was usually but poorly filled. Science and literature also occupied much of his attention; and, while his realm was engaged in perpetual wars, he kept up a careful correspondence on profound themes with many of the foremost thinkers of his day. The records of his intercourse with Dürer are most meagre, though during the seven years of their connection they must have had many interviews, especially while the imperial portrait was being made.

  Melanchthon tells a pretty story, which he heard from Dürer himself. One day the artist was finishing a sketch for the Emperor, who, while waiting, attempted to make a drawing himself with one of the charcoal-crayons; but the charcoal kept breaking away, and he complained that he could accomplish nothing with it. Dürer then took it from his hand, saying, “This is my sceptre, your Majesty;” and afterwards taught the sovereign how to use it.

  The story which is told of so many geniuses who have risen from low estate is applied also to this one: The Emperor once declared to a noble who had proudly declined to perform some trivial service for the artist, “Out of seven ploughboys I can, if I please, make seven lords, but out of seven lords I cannot make one Dürer.”

  Tradition states that the Emperor ennobled Dürer, and gave him a coat-of-arms. Possibly this was the crest used in his later years, consisting of three shields on a blue field, above which is a closed helmet supporting the armless bust and head of a winged negro!

  The idea of the immense woodcut of the Triumphal Arch of Maximilian was conceived after 1512, either by the Emperor or by the poet-laureate Stabius; and Dürer was chosen to put it into execution. The history of the deeds of Maximilian, with his ancestry and family alliances, was to be displayed in the form of a pictorial triumphal arch, “after the manner of those erected in honor of the Roman emperors.” The master demanded payment in advance, and received an order from the Emperor to the Rath of Nuremberg to hold “his and the Empire’s true and faithful Albert Dürer exempt from all the town taxes and rates, in consideration of our esteem for his skill in art.” But he surrendered this immunity, in deference to the wishes of the Rath; and Maximilian granted him an annual pension of 100 florins ($200), which was paid, however, somewhat reluctantly.

  “The Knight, Death, and the Devil,” is the most celebrated of Dürer’s engravings, and dates from 1513. It shows a panoplied knight riding through a rocky defile, with white-bearded Death advancing alongside and holding up an hour-glass, and the loathsome Satan pursuing hard after and clutching at the undismayed knight. The numerous commentators on this picture variously interpret its meaning, some saying that the knight is an evil-doer, intent on wicked purposes, whom Death warns to repentance, while Satan rushes to seize him; others, and the most, that he is the Christian man, fearless among the menaces of Death and Hell, and steadily advancing in spite of the horrible apparitions. Others claim that the Knight represents Franz von Sickingen, a turbulent hero of the Reformation; or Philip Ring, the Nuremberg herald, who was confronted by the Devil on one of his night-rides; or Dürer himself, beset by temptations and fears; or Stephen Baumgärtner, the master’s friend, whose portrait bears a resemblance to the knight’s face. Still another interpretation is given in the romance of “Sintram and his Companions,” which was suggested by this engraving, as we are told by its author, La Motte Fouqué.

  Kugler says: “I believe I do not exaggerate when I particularize this print as the most important work which the fantastic spirit of German art has ever produced.” It was made in Dürer’s blooming time, and the plate is a wonderful specimen of delicate and exquisite execution. It has frequently been copied, in many forms.

  “The Little Crucifixion” is one of the most exquisitely finished of Dürer’s engravings on copper, and is a small round picture, about one inch in diameter, which was made for an ornament on the pommel of the Emperor’s sword. It contains seven figures, full of clearness and individuality, and engraved with marvellous skill. There are, fortunately, several very beautiful copies of this print. Other copper-plates of 1513 were “The Judgment of Paris,” and the small round “St. Jerome.”

  The famous Baumgärtner altar-piece was painted for the patrician family of that name, as a votive picture, in thanksgiving for the safe return of its knightly members from the Swiss campaigns. Nuremberg unwillingly surrendered it to Maximilian of Bavaria, and it is now in the Munich Pinakothek. It consists of a central picture of “The Nativity,” of no special merit, with two wings, the first of which shows Stephen Baumgärtner, a meagre-faced and resolute knight, in the character of St. George, while the other portrays the plain-mannered and practical Lucas Baumgärtner, in the garb of St. Eustachius. These excellent portrait-figures are clad in armor, and stand by the sides of their horses.

  The “Vision of St. Eustachius” was executed on copper-plate, and is one of Dürer’s most delicate and beautiful works. It shows the huntsman Eustachius as a strong and earnest German mystic, kneeling before the miraculous crucifix set in the stag’s forehead, which has appeared to convict him of his sins, and to stimulate in him that faith by which he led a new life of prayer and praise, and won a martyr’s crown. His solemn-faced horse seems to realize that a miracle is taking place; and in the foreground are five delicately drawn hounds. On the steep hill in the rear a noble and picturesque mediæval castle rears its battlemented to
wers above long lines of cliffs. Tradition says that the face of Eustachius is a portrait of the Emperor Maximilian. When the Emperor Rudolph secured the original plate of the engraving, he had it richly gilded.

  “The Great Fortune,” or “The Nemesis,” is a copper-plate showing a repulsively ugly naked woman, with wings, holding a rich chalice and a bridle, while on the earth below is a beautiful mountain village between two confluent rivers. Sandrart says that this is the Hungarian village of Eytas, where Dürer’s father was born; but there is no proof of this theory. “The Coat-of-Arms with the Cock” is a fine copper-plate, with some obscure allegorical significance, representing, perhaps, Vigilance by the cock which stands on a closed helmet, and Faith by the rampant lion on the shield below.

  CHAPTER V.

  St. Jerome. — The Melencolia. — Death of Dürer’s Mother. — Raphael. — Etchings. — Maximilian’s Arch. — Visit to Augsburg.

  The copper-plate engraving of “St. Jerome in his Chamber” was executed in 1514, and is one of Dürer’s three greatest works, a marvel of brilliancy and beauty, full of accurate detail and minute perfection. The saint has a grand and venerable head, firmly outlined against a white halo, and is sitting in a cheerful monastic room, lighted by the sun streaming through two large arched windows, while he writes at his desk, translating the Scriptures. In the foreground the lion of St. Jerome is drowsing, alongside a fat watch-dog; a huge pumpkin hangs from one of the oaken beams overhead; and patristic tomes and convenient German utensils are scattered about the room.

  “The Virgin on the Crescent Moon” was a copper-plate executed also in 1514, showing the graceful and charming Mary, treated with an idealism which almost suggests Raphael. This is one of the best of the seventeen Mary-pictures (Marien-bilder) which Dürer executed in copper. Other copper-plates of 1514 represented Sts. Paul and Thomas, the Bagpipe-Player, and a Dancing Rustic and his Wife.