Having given orders for the work to proceed, Filippo followed its progress so scrupulously and carefully that not a stone was laid without his supervision. As for Lorenzo, after having been defeated and, in effect, disgraced, he was all the same favoured and helped by his friends, continuing, for example, to draw his salary and claiming that he could not be dismissed for another three years.
Filippo, meanwhile, was always, on the slightest excuse, making designs and models of scaffolds for the builders and of machines for lifting weights. But this did not prevent some malicious people (who were friends of Lorenzo) from throwing him into despair by continuously having other models constructed in competition with his; some, which were made by Antonio da Verzelli and other favoured artists, were put forward for attention now by one citizen and now by another, in a way showing how fickle they were, how they knew little and understood less, and how although they had perfect work within their reach they were ready to promote imperfect and worthless things.
By now the ties had been completed all round the eight sides of the cupola and with this encouragement the masons were working vigorously; but they were then harried by Filippo more than usual, and they were especially aggrieved by some reprimands they received over their work and by other incidents that were a daily occurrence. Spurred on by this and by their greed, the foremen banded together in a faction and declared that they would not build the cupola without higher wages, even though they were already earning more than the average. In this way, they thought, they could revenge themselves on Filippo and do themselves some good at the same time. The wardens and Filippo were angered by this, and, after he had given the matter some thought, Filippo one Saturday evening made up his mind to dismiss every one of them. Realizing the plight they were in and not knowing how matters would end, the foremen were very evilly disposed; and then, the following Monday, Filippo put ten Lombards on their work and by standing over them and saying: ‘Do this, now do that…’, he taught them so much in the space of a day that they were able to carry the work forward for several weeks. For their part, when the masons found themselves dismissed and workless and, after this disgrace, unable to find jobs that paid as well, they sent a go-between to tell Filippo that they would willingly come back, and they threw themselves on his generosity. Filippo kept them in suspense for several days, during which they feared he would refuse to have them, and he took them back for less wages than before; so instead of getting something more, as they thought they would, they suffered a loss, and in venting their spite on Filippo they injured and disgraced themselves.
There was no more murmuring after this, and when the building was seen to be going ahead smoothly Filippo’s genius was universally acknowledged. Those who were not already prejudiced maintained that he had demonstrated a boldness such as perhaps no other ancient or modern architect had ever shown. This was because he brought out his model for the cupola and let everyone see the tremendous thought he had given to planning the stairways: there were lights, both inside and out (so that no one might be frightened and injured in the darkness) and several iron guide-rails placed where the ascent was steep. Everything was very carefully arranged. As well as this, he had thought of irons for fixing scaffolding inside, in case there were a need to do mosaics or paintings; he also placed the different kinds of gutter, some covered and some open, in the least dangerous positions; and along with these he designed various holes and apertures to break the force of the wind and prevent exhalations or movements of the earth from causing any damage. By this he showed how much he had profited from the studies he pursued for so many years in Rome. And when people considered what he had done in dovetailing, inlaying, joining, and binding the stones, it filled them with awe and trembling to think that one man could achieve what Filippo had done. And he continued to make such progress that eventually there was nothing, however difficult and forbidding it might seem, that he did not make easy and simple. For example, by using counter-weights and wheels for lifting he made it possible for a single ox to raise a load so heavy that previously it would hardly have been possible for six pairs of oxen to move it.
The building had now grown so high that it called for great exertions to climb to the top and down again, and the builders were losing a great deal of time in going to eat or drink, as well as suffering intensely from the heat of the day. So Filippo arranged for canteens equipped with kitchens and serving wine to be provided on the cupola itself. No one therefore needed to leave work until it was evening, and this was very convenient both for the men and the work itself. Filippo was so elated when he saw the construction going ahead successfully that he never took any rest; he would often visit the kilns where the bricks were being shaped and demand to see and handle the clay, insisting, when they had been baked, on selecting them very carefully with his own hands. He also inspected the stones being used by the stone-cutters to see if they were hard and unflawed, and he would give them models for the joints and the turnings made of wood or wax, or cut from a turnip; and similarly, he made iron tools for the smiths. He also invented hinges with heads and pivots. Altogether he gave a tremendous impetus to architecture; through him it was raised to a standard probably never before achieved among the Tuscans.
In 1423 Florence could not have been happier or rejoiced more when Filippo was elected to the Signoria for the months of May and June by the district of San Giovanni, Lapo Niccolini being chosen Gonfalonier of Justice by the Santa Croce district. (No one need be surprised to find that he is entered in the register as Filippo di ser Brunellesco Lippi, since he was correctly called after his grandfather, da Lippo, and not de’ Lapi. Countless other instances of this kind of usage can be seen in the register and will not disconcert those who have seen the register or know the usage of those times.) Filippo exercised the office to which he was elected, and he also held other magisterial posts in Florence, always conducting himself very seriously and judiciously.
It was now time to start closing the two vaults towards the round window where the lantern was to be erected, and Filippo, who had made several wood and clay models of both the one and the other in Rome and Florence, without showing them to anyone, had finally to make up his mind which of them he wanted to be followed. Having determined to finish the gallery, he made several designs which remained after his death in the Office of Works, but which, through the negligence of those officials, have today disappeared. In our own times, in order to complete the construction, a part of the gallery was built on one of the eight sides, but, because it clashed with Filippo’s own design, on the advice of Michelangelo Buonarroti it was rejected and left unfinished.
Filippo also made with his own hand a model for the lantern; this had eight sides and was in proportion with the cupola, and it was beautifully successful in invention, variety, and adornment. He included in his model the stairway leading up to the ball, and this was a marvellous piece of work; but since he had blocked the entrance with a piece of wood inserted from below no one except him knew that it was there. Although he was praised and had now overcome widespread envy and arrogance, this did not deter all the artists in Florence, when they saw what he had done, from setting out to make various models of their own; and finally, a woman of the Gaddi family was bold enough to enter one in competition with Filippo’s. However, Filippo laughed at their presumption, and when many of his friends advised him not to show his model to any other artists, lest they should learn from it, he replied that there was only one good model and that the others were worthless. Some of the artists did incorporate details from Filippo’s work in their models, but when he saw an instance of this Filippo would merely comment: ‘The next model this man makes will be mine.’
Everyone enthusiastically praised Filippo’s own model, only as they could not see the stairway leading to the ball they asserted that it was incomplete. All the same, on condition that Filippo showed where the ascent was to be, the wardens decided to commission the work from him. So Filippo removed the little piece of wood which was down
below to reveal in a pilaster the staircase as it is seen today. It took the form of a hollow blow-pipe, having a groove to one side with bronze rungs by which, placing one foot after the other, it is possible to climb to the top. Because he was now old and would not live to see the lantern finished he stipulated in his will that it should be built with the model and the written instructions that he left; otherwise, he insisted, the fabric would collapse because it was vaulted in an ogive and needed the weight pressing down on top in order to strengthen it. He failed to see this edifice completed before he died, but he raised it to a height of several feet and he ensured that nearly all the marble destined for it was properly prepared and polished. When the people saw the marbles ready they were flabbergasted that he should propose to place such a mass on top of the vaulting. And many clever men who considered that it would not bear the weight thought that he had been fortunate to bring it as far as he had, and that it was tempting God to burden it so heavily. Filippo merely laughed to himself at all this, and when all the machines and apparatus to erect it had been prepared he devoted all his time and thought to anticipating, providing, and preparing for every slightest detail, even to seeing that the marbles should not be chipped at the edges when they were being hauled up, by providing the arches of the tabernacles with protective wooden coverings. And for the rest, as I mentioned, he left written instructions and models.
As for how beautiful the edifice is, it is its own witness. From ground-level to the lantern the height is 308 feet, the body of the lantern is seventy-two feet, the copper ball is eight feet, the cross sixteen feet, and the whole is 404 feet;1 and it can be confidently asserted that the ancients never built to such a height nor risked challenging the sky itself, for it truly appears that this building challenges the heavens, soaring as it does to so great a height that it seems to measure up to the mountains around Florence. Indeed, the heavens themselves seem to be envious of it since every day it is struck by lightning.
While all this work was going on Filippo made several other buildings which we shall now describe in order. For the Pazzi family he made with his own hand the model for the chapter-house in Santa Croce at Florence, a work of great beauty and variety; he made for the Busini the model for their palace for two families; and likewise, he made the model for the house and loggia of the Innocenti, the vaulting for which was completed without scaffolding, a method still universally used today. It is said that Filippo was summoned to Milan to make a model for a fortress for Duke Filippo Maria, and that he left his close friend, Francesco della Luna, in charge of the building for the Innocenti. The story goes that Francesco made the architrave turn downwards, which is an architectural solecism; and when Filippo had returned and scolded him for doing such a thing, he replied that he had taken it from the church of San Giovanni, which is an ancient building. Filippo said: ‘There is only one mistake in that building, and you have copied it.’
Filippo’s model for the Innocenti building remained many years in the possession of the Guild of Por Santa Maria, where it was carefully treasured since a part of the work had still to be completed; today it is lost.
For Cosimo de’ Medici Filippo made the model of the abbey of the Canons-regular of Fiesole, which is a richly decorated piece of architecture, pleasing, commodious, and altogether magnificent. The church, with its barrel vaulting, is very spacious, and the sacristy, like all the rest of the monastery, is very conveniently laid out. But most worth considering is the way in which, as the building had to be erected properly levelled on the slope of the mountain, Filippo very intelligently made use of the foundation, where he put the cellars, laundries, bakehouses, stables, kitchens, fuel stores, and any number of convenient offices, so that it would be impossible to devise anything better. This enabled him to erect the building on a level base which supported the lodges, the refectory, the infirmary, the noviciate, the dormitory, the library, and the other principal monastic apartments. All of this was paid for by the magnificent Cosimo de’ Medici, who was prompted by his constant devotion towards the Christian religion as well as by his affection for Don Timoteo da Verona, a superb preacher of that Order; in order to enjoy the latter’s conversation more easily, Cosimo also had built for himself in the monastery several apartments which he used as and when he wanted. As can be seen from an inscription, Cosimo spent a hundred thousand crowns on the building.
Filippo also made a model for the fortress of Vicopisano; he designed the old citadel at Pisa; the Ponte a Mare was fortified by him; and similarly, he provided for the new citadel the plans by which the bridge was closed by the two towers. He also made the model for the fortifications of the harbour at Pesaro; and when he went back to Milan he designed many things for the duke and for those in charge of building the cathedral.
At that time work was started on the church of San Lorenzo at Florence, on the orders of the parishioners who had made the prior superintendent of the building. The prior professed to understand architecture and took great pleasure in practising it in his spare time. They had already made brick piers for the building when it happened that one day Giovanni di Bicci de’ Medici (who had promised the parishioners and the prior that he would pay out of his own pocket for the sacristy and one of the chapels) entertained Filippo to dinner. After they had discussed various things, he questioned him about the work that had been started on San Lorenzo and asked what his opinion was. Giovanni was so pressing that Filippo had to say what he thought, and wanting to be truthful he criticized it on several points, showing that the work had been planned by someone who was perhaps better versed in letters than experienced in that kind of building. Giovanni then asked Filippo whether he could do something finer and better, and Filippo said:
Certainly I could, and I am surprised that you, as the leader in this enterprise, do not donate several thousand crowns and build the body of a church worthy of the district and of the noble families who will have their tombs there. For if the nobles saw an impressive start made on the work they would be keen to commission their own chapels, especially considering that the walls of our buildings are all we leave behind us and that they commemorate those who put them up for hundreds and thousands of years.
Inspired by Filippo’s words, Giovanni determined to be responsible for the sacristy and the principal chapel along with all the body of the church. However, only seven other noble families were willing to follow his example, since the others lacked the means; and these were the Rondinelli, Ginori, Dalla Stufa, Neroni, Ciai, Marignolli, Martelli, and Marco di Luca, whose chapels were to be built in the crossing. The first part to be constructed was the chapel and then, little by little, the church itself. And the other chapels along the length of the church were subsequently made over, one by one, to the citizens of the parish. Giovanni de’ Medici passed to the other life before the roofing of the sacristy was finished, leaving his son Cosimo who was more magnanimous than his father and delighted in memorials, and who arranged for the work to be continued. It gave him so much satisfaction that from then onwards till the day he died he was for ever building. Cosimo pushed the work on with greater enthusiasm, and before one part was finished he would be making ready to start on another. He took up this work as a pastime, and he started to give almost all his time and attention to it; and it was because of his solicitude that Filippo completed the sacristy and Donatello made the stuccoes and the bronze doors and the stone ornaments for the little doors. Cosimo also had his father’s tomb built under a great slab of marble supported by four little columns in the middle of the sacristy, where the priests vest for the service; and he had tombs built in the same place for his own family, separating the women’s from the men’s. In one of the two small rooms which are on each side of the sacristy he had a well and a lavabo built in one corner, In short, it can be seen that everything in the building was constructed with excellent judgement.
Giovanni and the others had planned to put the choir in the middle, below the tribune; but Cosimo changed this at the request of Filippo who
made the principal chapel (which had originally been designed as a smaller recess) so much bigger that he was able to put the choir where we see it today. When this was done it remained to construct the nave and the rest of the church; the roofing for these, however, was not completed till after Filippo’s death. The church is 288 feet long; and one can detect many errors in its construction. The columns, for example, are placed on the ground instead of being raised on a dado as high as the level of the bases supporting the pilasters on the steps. Because the pilaster is shorter than the column the whole structure looks lop-sided. This was the result of the advice given by those who came after Filippo, men who were envious of his reputation and who had made models to discredit him while he was still alive. In return, Filippo had written some scathing sonnets about them. Then, after his death, they took their revenge not only on the work we have been discussing but also on everything left for them to complete. Filippo left the finished model of San Lorenzo and also completed part of the capitular buildings for the priests, making the cloister 288 feet long.
While this building was being erected Cosimo de’ Medici made up his mind to build his own palace. He explained what he wanted to Filippo, who put everything else to one side and made him a large and very beautiful model for the palace, which he intended to erect on the piazza opposite San Lorenzo, standing isolated on every side. Filippo lavished his skill on the model to such effect that Cosimo decided the building would be too grand and sumptuous, and so, to escape envy rather than expense, he refrained from going ahead with it. While working on the model Filippo often said how it was a godsend to be asked and to be able to undertake such a palace, which was something he had wanted to do for years. But when he subsequently heard that Cosimo had decided not to make use of the model he lost his temper and smashed it into smithereens. As it was, when he built the other palace Cosimo deeply regretted not using Filippo’s plans; he used to say that he had never spoken to a man of finer spirit and intellect.
Lives of the Artists Page 17