Lives of the Artists

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Lives of the Artists Page 29

by Giorgio Vasari


  The great achievements of this inspired artist so increased his prestige that everyone who loved art, or rather every single person in Florence, was anxious for him to leave the city some memorial; and it was being proposed everywhere that Leonardo should be commissioned to do some great and notable work which would enable the state to be honoured and adorned by his discerning talent, grace, and judgement. As it happened the great hall of the council was being constructed under the architectural direction of Giuliano Sangallo, Simone Pollaiuolo (known as Cronaca), Michelangelo Buonarroti, and Baccio d’Agnolo, as I shall relate at greater length in the right place. It was finished in a hurry, and after the head of the government and the chief citizens had conferred together, it was publicly announced that a splendid painting would be commissioned from Leonardo. And then he was asked by Piero Soderini, the Gonfalonier of Justice, to do a decorative painting for the council hall. As a start, therefore, Leonardo began work in the Hall of the Pope, in Santa Maria Novella, on a cartoon illustrating an incident in the life of Niccolò Piccinino, a commander of Duke Filippo of Milan. He showed a group of horsemen fighting for a standard, in a drawing which was regarded as very fine and successful because of the wonderful ideas he expressed in his interpretation of the battle. In the drawing, rage, fury, and vindictiveness are displayed both by the men and by the horses, two of which with their forelegs interlocked are battling with their teeth no less fiercely than their riders are struggling for the standard, the staff of which has been grasped by a soldier who, as he turns and spurs his horse to flight, is trying by the strength of his shoulders to wrest it by force from the hands of four others. Two of them are struggling for it with one hand and attempting with the other to cut the staff with their raised swords; and an old soldier in a red cap roars out as he grips the staff with one hand and with the other raises a scimitar and aims a furious blow to cut off both the hands of those who are gnashing their teeth and ferociously defending their standard. Besides this, on the ground between the legs of the horses there are two figures, foreshortened, shown fighting together; the one on the ground has over him a soldier who has raised his arm as high as possible to plunge his dagger with greater force into the throat of his enemy, who struggles frantically with his arms and legs to escape death.

  It is impossible to convey the fine draughtsmanship with which Leonardo depicted the soldiers’ costumes, with their distinctive variations, or the helmet-crests and the other ornaments, not to speak of the incredible mastery that he displayed in the forms and lineaments of the horses which, with their bold spirit and muscles and shapely beauty, Leonardo portrayed better than any other artist. It is said that to draw the cartoon Leonardo constructed an ingenious scaffolding that he could raise or lower by drawing it together or extending it. He also conceived the wish to paint the picture in oils, but to do this he mixed such a thick composition for laying on the wall that, as he continued his painting in the hall, it started to run and spoil what had been done. So shortly afterwards he abandoned the work.

  Leonardo was very proud and instinctively generous. According to one story, he once went along to the bank to draw his usual monthly salary from Piero Soderini and the cashier wanted to give him a few packets of pennies which he refused to take, saying that he was no ‘penny painter’. As the painting had not been finished, he was accused of cheating Piero Soderini and there were murmurings against him. So Leonardo went round his friends and got the money together to repay Soderini; but Piero would not accept it.

  Leonardo went to Rome with Duke Giuliano de’ Medici on the election of Pope Leo who was a great student of natural philosophy, and especially of alchemy. And in Rome he experimented with a paste made out of a certain kind of wax and made some light and billowy figures in the form of animals which he inflated with his mouth as he walked along and which flew above the ground until all the air escaped.1 To the back of a very odd-looking lizard that was found by the gardener of the Belvedere he attached with a mixture of quicksilver some wings, made from the scales stripped from other lizards, which quivered as it walked along. Then, after he had given it eyes, horns, and a beard he tamed the creature, and keeping it in a box he used to show it to his friends and frighten the life out of them. Again, Leonardo used to get the intestines of a bullock scraped completely free of their fat, cleaned and made so fine that they could be compressed into the palm of one hand; then he would fix one end of them to a pair of bellows lying in another room, and when they were inflated they filled the room in which they were and forced anyone standing there into a corner. Thus he could expand this translucent and airy stuff to fill a large space after occupying only a little, and he compared it to genius.2 He perpetrated hundreds of follies of this kind, and he also experimented with mirrors and made the most outlandish experiments to discover oils for painting and varnish for preserving the finished works.

  At that time for Baldassare Turini of Pescia, who was Pope Leo’s datary, Leonardo executed with extraordinary diligence and skill a small picture of the Madonna and Child. But either because of the mistakes made by whoever primed the panel with gesso, or because of his own capricious way of mixing any number of grounds and colours, it is now spoilt. In another small picture he did the portrait of a little boy which is wonderfully beautiful and graceful. And both of these pictures are now in the possession of Giulio Turini at Pescia.

  Once, when he was commissioned a work by the Pope, Leonardo is said to have started at once to distil oils and various plants in order to prepare the varnish; and the Pope is supposed to have exclaimed: ‘Oh dear, this man will never do anything. Here he is thinking about finishing the work before he even starts it!’

  Leonardo and Michelangelo strongly disliked each other, and so Michelangelo left Florence because of their rivalry (with permission from Duke Giuliano) after he had been summoned by the Pope to discuss the completion of the façade of San Lorenzo; and when he heard this Leonardo also left Florence and went to France. The king had obtained several of his works and was very devoted to him, and he asked Leonardo to paint the cartoon of St Anne. But, characteristically, Leonardo for a long time put him off with mere words.

  Finally, in his old age Leonardo lay sick for several months, and feeling that he was near to death he earnestly resolved to learn about the doctrines of the Catholic faith and of the good and holy Christian religion. Then, lamenting bitterly, he confessed and repented, and, although he could not stand up, supported by his friends and servants he received the Blessed Sacrament from his bed. He was joined by the king, who often used to pay him affectionate visits, and having respectfully raised himself in his bed he told the king about his illness and what had caused it, and he protested that he had offended God and mankind by not working at his art as he should have done. Then he was seized by a paroxysm, the forerunner of death, and, to show him favour and to soothe his pain, the king held his head. Conscious of the great honour being done to him, the inspired Leonardo breathed his last in the arms of the king; he was then seventy-five years old.1

  All who had known Leonardo were grieved beyond words by their loss, for no one had ever shed such lustre on the art of painting.

  In appearance he was striking and handsome, and his magnificent presence brought comfort to the most troubled soul; he was so persuasive that he could bend other people to his own will. He was physically so strong that he could withstand any violence; with his right hand he would bend the iron ring of a doorbell or a horseshoe as if they were lead. He was so generous that he sheltered and fed all his friends, rich or poor, provided they were of some talent or worth. By his every action Leonardo adorned and honoured the meanest and humblest dwelling-place. Through his birth, therefore, Florence received a very great gift, and through his death it sustained an incalculable loss. In painting he brought to the technique of colouring in oils a way of darkening the shadows which has enabled modern painters to give great vigour and relief to their figures. He showed his powers as a sculptor in the three bronze figures over the nort
h door of San Giovanni which were executed by Giovanfrancesco Rustici, under Leonardo’s direction, and which as far as design and finish are concerned are the finest casts yet seen in modern times.

  Because of Leonardo we have a deeper knowledge of human anatomy and the anatomy of the horse. And because of his many wonderful gifts (although he accomplished far more in words than in deeds) his name and fame will never be extinguished. This was written in praise of Leonardo by Giovan Battista Strozzi:

  Vince costui pur solo

  Tutti altri, e vince Fidia e vince Apelle,

  E tutto lor vittoriosi stuolo.1

  One of Leonardo’s pupils was Giovanni Antonio Boltraffio of Milan, a very skilful and discerning artist who in 1500 in the church of the Misericordia, outside Bologna, painted in oils a carefully finished picture of the Madonna and Child, St John the Baptist, and a nude St Sebastian, with a portrait of the donor kneeling in prayer. On this very beautiful panel he signed his name, adding that he was a pupil of Leonardo. He did other works at Milan and elsewhere, but it is enough to have described the best of them.

  Another of Leonardo’s pupils was Marco Uggioni, who in Santa Maria della Pace painted the Assumption of the Virgin and the Marriage of Cana in Galilee.

  LIFE OF GIORGIONE DA CASTELFRANCO

  Venetian painter, c. 1476/8–1510

  WHILE Florence was winning fame through the works of Leonardo no less glory was conferred on Venice by the talents and achievements of one of her citizens, who greatly surpassed not only the Bellini (whom the Venetians regarded so highly) but also every other Venetian painter up to that time.1

  This artist was called Giorgio; he was born in 1478 at Castelfranco near Treviso, when the doge was Giovanni Mocenigo, Doge Piero’s brother. Because of his physical appearance and his moral and intellectual stature he later came to be known as Giorgione; and although he was of humble origin throughout his life he was nothing if not gentle and courteous. He was brought up in Venice. He was always a very amorous man and he was extremely fond of the lute, which he played so beautifully to accompany his own singing that his services were often used at music recitals and social gatherings. He also studied and derived tremendous pleasure from the arts of design, in which he was highly gifted by nature; and he fell so deeply in love with the beauties of nature that he would represent in his works only what he copied directly from life. He always imitated and followed nature so faithfully that he was recognized not only as having surpassed Gentile and Giovanni Bellini but also as rivalling those who were working in Tuscany and creating the modern style.

  It happened that Giorgione saw some of Leonardo’s works with their subtle transitions of colour and tone and their extraordinary relief, conveyed, as I described, by means of shadows. This style attracted him so much that all his life he referred to it and based his own work on it; and he imitated it above all in his oil paintings. Delighting in craftsmanship, Giorgione sought after the most beautiful and varied subjects to put into his works. He was an artist of great natural discernment and talent; and so in his oil paintings and frescoes he created living forms and other representations which were so soft, so well harmonized, and so subtly shaded and blended that many of the great artists of his time admitted that he had been born to infuse life into painted figures and to represent the freshness of living forms more convincingly than any other painter, in Venice or anywhere else.

  To begin with, in Venice Giorgione painted many Madonnas and portraits. These were vigorous and beautiful pictures, as is shown by three lovely heads in oils to be found in the study of the Very Reverend Grimani, patriarch of Venice. One of these heads, in which the hair is depicted falling to the shoulders, as was the fashion in those days, is said to be Giorgione’s self-portrait. The portrait represents David, who is depicted with wonderful vigour and realism. His breast is protected by armour as is the arm with which he holds the severed head of Goliath. The second, larger head is a portrait from life of a man holding a commander’s red beret in his hand and wearing a fur cape over a tunic in the antique style; it is thought that he represents a commander-in-chief. The third extremely beautiful painting shows a boy depicted with hair like fleece. And these works bear witness both to Giorgione’s skill and to the enduring devotion of that great patriarch who has always, and rightly, cherished them.

  In Florence, in the house of the sons of Giovanni Borgherini, there is a portrait by Giorgione of Giovanni himself, painted when he was a young man in Venice, which also shows Giovanni’s tutor; these two heads are executed with incomparably fine flesh-tints and shadows. In the house of Anton de’ Nobili is another head of a captain in armour, very lively and animated, who is said to be one of the captains whom Gonsalvo Ferrante took with him to Venice when he visited Doge Agostino Barberigo. And it is said that on this occasion Giorgione portrayed the great Gonsalvo himself in his armour, producing an incomparably fine and remarkable work which Gonsalvo is supposed to have taken away with him. Giorgione did many other portraits which are scattered throughout Italy, very fine works as is shown, for example, by the portrait of Leonardo Loredano (whom Giorgione painted when he was doge). I myself saw this on show one Ascension Day; and that serene ruler seemed to be there himself in the flesh. Another of Giorgione’s portraits is to be found in Faenza, in the house of Giovanni da Castel Bolognese, a skilled engraver of cameos and crystals; it was painted for his father-in-law and it is truly an inspired work of art, for the harmonious transition of the tones from light to dark makes it look more like a work in relief than a painting.

  Giorgione loved to paint frescoes, and among the many that he executed was the entire façade of Cá Soranzo on the Piazza di San Polo, where in addition to many pictures, scenes, and fantasies he did on the plaster a picture painted in oils which has withstood rain, sun, and wind to remain fresh up to our own time. There is also a picture of Spring, which I consider one of Giorgione’s finest frescoes, and it is a great pity that time has dealt with it so cruelly. (For myself, I know nothing more harmful to fresco painting than the sirocco, especially near to the sea where it carries a salt moisture with it.)

  Then in the year 1504 a terrible fire broke out in Venice, near the Rialto bridge, in the Fondaco dei Tedeschi, which was completely burnt out with all its stocks of merchandise, to the great loss of the merchants.1 So the Signoria of Venice decreed that it should be rebuilt, and this was done very quickly, with far better accommodation and with greater magnificence, adornment, and beauty. Meanwhile, in view of Giorgione’s mounting reputation, those in charge of the project, after discussing the matter, ordered that he should colour it in fresco as he wished, provided only that he did all in his power to create a first-rate work, seeing that it was for the most beautiful place and the finest site in the city. So Giorgione started work. But he thought only of demonstrating his technique as a painter by representing various figures according to his own fancy. Indeed, there are no scenes to be found there with any order or representing the deeds of any distinguished person, of either the ancient or the modern world. And I for my part have never been able to understand his figures nor, for all my asking, have I ever found anyone who does. In these frescoes one sees, in various attitudes, a man in one place, a woman standing in another, one figure accompanied by the head of a lion, another by an angel in the guise of a cupid; and heaven knows what it all means. Then over the main door which opens into the Merceria there is the seated figure of a woman who has at her feet the head of a dead giant, as if she were meant to be a Judith; she is raising the head with a sword and speaking to a German standing below her. I have not been able to interpret the meaning of this, unless Giorgione meant her to stand for Germania. All the same, one can see clearly that the figures he painted are well grouped and that he was continually improving his work: there are heads and parts of figures very finely painted and vivaciously coloured; and in everything he was careful to work directly from nature and avoid copying what any other painter had done. The building is renowned throughout Venice, no l
ess for Giorgione’s frescoes than for its convenience for commerce and its usefulness to the state.

  Giorgione did a painting showing Christ carrying the cross with a Jew who is tugging him, which was eventually placed in the church of San Rocco, and which now, because of great devotion that is paid to it, works miracles, as anyone can see for himself.

  Giorgione worked in various places, including Castelfranco and the territory of Treviso; he executed many portraits for various Italian rulers; and many of his works were exported from Italy, for they were considered as worthy evidence of the fact that, if Tuscany had an abundance of artists in every age, the region beyond, near the mountains, was not always forgotten and neglected by heaven.

  The story goes that at the time Andrea Verrocchio was making his bronze horse Giorgione fell into an argument with some sculptors who maintained that since a statue showed to anyone walking round it different aspects and poses, sculpture was superior to painting, which could represent only one aspect of any given subject. Giorgione argued to the contrary that in a single scene the painter could show to an observer standing still in one place various aspects of the one figure by depicting a number of different gestures; whereas for a work of sculpture to produce the same effect, he said, the observer must change his position and viewpoint. Moreover, he offered to show in a single view of one picture the front, back, and two profiles of a painted figure. After he had made those sculptors rack their brains, Giorgione solved the problem in this way. He painted a man in the nude with his back turned and, at his feet, a limpid stream of water bearing his reflection. To one side was a burnished cuirass that the man had taken off, and this reflected his left profile (since the polished surface of the armour revealed everything clearly); on the other side was a mirror reflecting the other profile of the nude figure. This was a very fine and fanciful idea, and Giorgione used it to prove that painting requires more skill and effort and can show in one scene more aspects of nature than is the case with sculpture. The picture was greatly praised and admired for its beauty and ingenuity.

 

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