Donatello Part 4

[Footnote 49: In San Giorgio Maggiore, Venice.]

[Footnote 50: Borghini, Donatello's earliest work. Semper, 1406.

Schmarsow, 1412. Bode, before the second journey to Rome in 1433.

Reymond, 1435.]

[Footnote 51: _E.g._, on the Or San Michele niche, round the Trinity.

Verrocchio also used it on his sketch model for the Forteguerri tomb, Victoria and Albert Museum, No. 7599, 1861.]

[Footnote 52: _E.g._, Pacifico tomb about 1438 and the Francesco Foscari tomb about 1457, both in the Frari.]

[Footnote 53: "Due Trattati di Benvenuto Cellini," ed. Carlo Milanesi, 1857. Ch. 6 on marble.]

[Footnote 54: _Cf._ _Putti_ on the Roman Tabernacle.]

[Footnote 55: Bocchi, p. 316.]

[Footnote 56: "Memoriale di molte statue e pitture della citta di Firenze," 1510.]

[Footnote 57: Or San Michele niche, San Lorenzo Evangelists.]

[Sidenote: Martelli, David and Donatello's Technique.]

Tradition says that Ruberto Martelli was the earliest of Donatello's patrons. So far as we know, there were two Rubertos: the elder was seventy-three at the time of Donatello's birth, and must therefore have been a nonagenarian before his patronage could be effectively exercised; the other was twenty-two years younger than the sculptor, whom he could not have helped as a young man. But there is no question about the interest shown by the family in Donatello's work. The David and the St. John, together with a portrait-bust and the coat of arms, still show their practical appreciation of his work and Donatello's grat.i.tude to the family. Vasari is the first to mention these works, and it must be remarked that Albertini, who paid great attention to Donatello, mentions nothing but antique sculpture in the Martelli palace. The David and the St. John Baptist are both in marble, and were probably made between 1415 and 1425. The David, which was always prized by the family, is shown in the background of Bronzino's portrait of Ugolino Martelli.[58] It was then standing in the courtyard of the palace, but was taken indoors in 1802 _per intemperias_. The statue is not altogether a success. Its _allure_ is good: but the anatomy is feminine, the type is soft and yielding; the att.i.tude is not spontaneous; and the head of Goliath, tucked uncomfortable between the feet, is poor. There is a bronze statuette in Berlin which has been considered a study for this figure, though it is most unlikely that Donatello himself would have taken the trouble to make bronze versions of his preparatory studies. The work, however, is in all probability by Donatello, and most of the faults in the marble statue being corrected, it may be later than the Martelli figure, from which it also varies in several particulars. The statuette is full of life and vigour, and the David is a st.u.r.dy shepherd-boy who might well engage a lion or a bear. In one respect the Martelli figure is of great importance. It is unfinished--the only unfinished marble we have of the master, and it gives an insight into the methods he employed. It is fortunate that we have some means of understanding how Donatello gained his ends, although this statue does not show him at his best; indeed it may have been abandoned because it did not reach his expectations. However, we have nothing else to judge by. The first criticism suggested by the David is that Donatello betrays the great effort it cost him. Like the unfinished Faith by Mino da Fiesole,[59] it is laboured and experimental. They set to work hoping that later stages would enable them to rectify any error or miscalculation, but both found they had gone too far. The material would permit no such thing, and with all their skill one sees that the blocks of marble did not unfold the statues which lay hidden within.

As hewers of stone, Donatello and Mino cannot compare with Michael Angelo. Jacopo della Quercia alone had something of his genius of material. n.o.body left more "unfinished" work than Michael Angelo. The Victory, the bust of Brutus, the Madonna and Child,[60] to mention a few out of many, show clearly what his system was. In the statue of Victory we see the three stages of development or completion. The statue is _in_ the stone, grows out of it. The marble seems to be as soft as soap, and Michael Angelo simply peels off successive strata, apparently extracting a statue without the smallest effort. The three grades are respectively shown in the rough-hewn head of the crouching figure, then in the head of the triumphant youth above him, finally in his completed torso. But each stage is finished relatively. Completion is relative to distance; the Brutus is finished or unfinished according to our standpoint, physical or aesthetic. Moreover, the treatment is not partial or piecemeal; the statue was in the marble from the beginning, and is an ent.i.ty from its initial stage: in many ways each stage is equally fine. The paradox of Michael Angelo's technique is that his _abozzo_ is really a finished study. The Victory also shows how the deep folds of drapery are bored preparatory to being carved, in order that the chisel might meet less resistance in the narrow s.p.a.ces; this is also the case in the Martelli David. As a technical adjunct boring was very useful, but only as a process. When employed as a mechanical device to represent the hair of the head, we get the Roman Empress disguised as a sponge or a honeycomb. These tricks reveal much more than pure technicalities of art.

Gainsborough's habit of using paint brushes four or five feet long throws a flood of light upon theory and practice alike. There is, however, another work, possibly by Donatello himself, which gives no insight into anything but technical methods, but which is none the less important. This is the large Madonna and Child surrounded by angels, belonging to Signor Bardini of Florence. It is unhappily a complete wreck, five heads, including the Child's, having been broken away. It is a relief in stucco, modelled, not cast, and is closely allied with a group of Madonnas to which reference is made hereafter.[61] We can see precisely how this relief was made. The stucco adheres to a strong canvas, which in its turn is nailed on to a wooden panel. The background, also much injured, is decorated with mosaic and geometrical patterns of gla.s.s, now dim and opaque with age.

The relief must have been of signal merit. Complete it would have rivalled the polychrome Madonna of the Louvre: as a fragment it is quite sufficient to prove that the Piot Madonna, in the same museum, is not authentic. One more trick of the sculptor remains to be noticed. Vasari and Bocchi say that Donatello, recognising the value of his work, grouped his figures so that the limbs and drapery should offer few protruding angles, in order to minimise the danger of fracture. It was his insurance against the fragility of the stone: when working in bronze such precautions would be less necessary. It is quite true that in the larger figures there is a marked restraint in this respect, while in his bas-reliefs, where the danger was less, the tendency to raise the arms above the head is often exaggerated. But too much stress should not be laid upon this explanation: it is hard to believe that Donatello would have let so crucial a matter be governed by such a consideration. Speaking generally, Donatello was neither more nor less restrictive than his Florentine contemporaries, and it was only at a later period that the isolated statue received perfect freedom, such as that in the Cellini Perseus, or the Mercury by Gian Bologna, or Bernini's work in marble.

[Footnote 58: In the Berlin Gallery.]

[Footnote 59: Berlin Museum.]

[Footnote 60: All three in Bargello.]

[Footnote 61: See p. 185.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: _Alinari_

SAN GIOVANNINO

PALAZZO MARTELLI, FLORENCE]

[Ill.u.s.tration: _Alinari_

ST. JOHN BAPTIST, MARBLE

BARGELLO]

[Sidenote: Early Figures of St. John.]

Another important statue in the Martelli palace is that of St. John the Baptist. Besides being the earliest patron of Florence, St. John was the t.i.tular saint of every Baptistery in the land. This accounts for the frequency with which we find his statues and scenes from his life, particularly in Tuscany. With Donatello he was to some extent a speciality, and we can almost trace the sculptor's evolution in his presentment of the Baptist, beginning with the chivalrous figure on the Campanile and ending with the haggard ascetic of Venice. We have St. John as a child in the Bargello, as a boy in Rome, as a stripling in the Martelli palace. On the bell-tower he is grown up, in the Frari he is growing older, and at Siena he is shown as old as Biblical history would permit. The St. John in the Casa Martelli, _oltra tutti singolare_,[62] was so highly prized that it was made an heirloom, with penalties for such members of the family who disposed of it. This St. John is a link between the Giovannino and the mature prophet. He is, as it were, dazed, and sets forth upon his errand with open-mouthed wonder. He has a strain of melancholy, and seems rather weakly and hesitating. But there is no attempt after emaciation. The limbs are well made, and as st.u.r.dy as one would expect, in view of the unformed lines of the model: the hands also are good. As regards the face, one notices that the nose and mouth are rather crooked, and that the eyes diverge: not, indeed, that these defects are really displeasing, since they are what one sometimes finds in living youth.

Another Baptist which has. .h.i.therto escaped attention is the small marble figure, about four feet high, which stands in a niche over the sacristy door of San Giovanni Fiorentino in Rome. It was placed there a few years ago, when, owing to the prevalent mania of rebuilding, it became necessary to demolish the little oratory on the Corso which belonged to the Mother Church close by. The statue was scarcely seen in its old home: how it got there is unknown. The church itself was not founded by the Florentines until after Donatello's death, and this statue looks as if it had been made before Donatello's visit to Rome in 1433. But its authenticity cannot be questioned. We have the same type as in the Martelli Baptist, with something of the Franco-Gothic sentiment. This St. John is rather younger, a Giovannino, his thin lithe figure draped with the camel-hair tunic which ends above the knees. Hanging over the left shoulder is a long piece of drapery, falling to the ground behind him, and giving support to the marble, just as in the other Baptist. We have the open mouth, the curly hair and the broad nostrils: in every way it is a typical work of the sculptor. There are two other early Baptists, both in the Bargello.

The little relief in Pietra Serena[63] is a delightful rendering of gentle boyhood. The modelling shows Donatello's masterful treatment of the soft flesh and the tender muscles beneath it. Everything is subordinated to his object of showing real boyhood with all the charm of its imperfections. The head is shown in profile, thus enabling us to judge the precise nature of all the features, each one of which bears the imprint of callow _morbidezza_. Even the hair has the dainty qualities of childhood: it has the texture of silk. It is a striking contrast to the life-sized Baptist who has just reached manhood. We see a St. John walking out into the desert. He looks downward to the scroll in his hand, trudging forward with a hesitating gait,--but only hesitating because he is not sure of his foothold, so deeply is he absorbed in reading. It is a triumph of concentration.

Donatello has enlisted every agency that could intensify the oblivion of the world around him. It is from this aloofness that the figure leaves a detached and inhospitable impression. One feels instinctively that this St. John would be friendless, for he has nothing to offer, and asks no sympathy. There is no room for anybody else in his career, and n.o.body can share his labours or mitigate his privations. In short, there is no link between him and the spectator. Unless we interpret the statue in this manner, it loses all interest--it never had any beauty--and the St. John becomes a tiresome person with a pedantic and ill-balanced mind. But Donatello can only have meant to teach the lesson of concentrated unity of purpose, which is the chief if not the only characteristic of this St. John. Technically the work is admirable. The singular care with which the limbs are modelled, especially the feet and hands, is noteworthy: while the muscular system, the prominent spinal cord, and the pectoral bones are rendered with an exact.i.tude which leads one to suppose Donatello reproduced all the peculiarities of his model. It has been said that Michelozzo helped Donatello on the ground that certain details reappear on the Aragazzi monument. The argument is speculative, and would perhaps gain by being inverted,--by pointing out that when making the Aragazzi figures, Michelozzo, the lesser man, was influenced by Donatello, the greater.

[Footnote 62: Bocchi, 23. Like the David, it used to live out of doors, until in 1755 Nicolaus Martelli "in aedes suas transtulit." Its base dates from 1794.]

[Footnote 63: It was acquired for nine zechins in 1784. Madame Andre has a version in stucco, on rather a larger scale. A marble version from the Strawberry Hill Collection now belongs to Sir Charles Dilke, M.P.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: CLAY SKETCH OF CRUCIFIXION AND FLAGELLATION

LONDON]

[Sidenote: Donatello as Architect and Painter.]

Fully as Donatello realised the unity of the arts, we cannot claim him as a universal genius, like Leonardo or Michael Angelo, who combined the art of literature with plastic, pictorial and architectural distinction. But at the same time Donatello did not confine himself to sculpture. He was a member of the Guild of St. Luke: he designed a stained-gla.s.s window for the Cathedral: his opinion on building the Cupola was constantly invited, and he made a number of marble works, such as niches, fountains, galleries and tombs, into which the pursuit of architecture and construction was bound to enter. Moreover, his backgrounds were usually suggested by architectural motives. Donatello joined the painters' guild of St. Luke in 1412, and in a doc.u.ment of this year he is called _Pictor_.[64] There is a great variety in the names and qualifications given to artists during the fifteenth century. In the first edition of the Lives, Vasari calls Ghiberti a painter. Pisano, the medallist, signed himself Pictor. _Lastrajuolo_, or stone-fitter, is applied to Nanni di Banco.[65] Giovanni Nani was called _Tagliapietra_,[66] Donatello is also called _Marmoraio_, _picchiapietre_,[67] and woodcarver.[68] In the commission from the Orvieto Cathedral for a bronze Baptist he is comprehensively described as "_intagliatorem figurarum, magistrum lapidum atque intagliatorem figurarum in ligno et eximium magistrum omnium trajectorum_."[69]

Finally, like Ciuff.a.gni,[70] he is called _aurifex_, goldsmith.[71]

Cellini mentions Donatello's success in painting,[72] and Gauricus, who wrote early in the sixteenth century, says that the favourite maxim inculcated by Donatello to his pupils was "_designate_"--"Draw: that is the whole foundation of sculpture."[73] The only pictorial work that has survived is the great stained-gla.s.s Coronation of the Virgin in the Duomo. Ghiberti submitted a compet.i.tive cartoon and the Domopera had to settle which was "_pulchrius et honorabilius pro ecclesia_." Donatello's design was accepted,[74] and the actual glazing was carried out by Bernardo Francesco in eighteen months.[75]

The background is a plain blue sky, and the two great figures are the centre of a warm and harmonious composition. The window stands well among its fellows as regards colour and design, but does not help us to solve difficult problems connected with Donatello's drawings.

Numbers have been attributed to him on insufficient foundation.[76]

The fact is that, notwithstanding the explicit statements of Borghini and Vasari that Donatello and Michael Angelo were comparable in draughtsmanship, we have no authenticated work through which to make our inductions. A large and important scene of the Flagellation in the Uffizzi,[77] placed within a complicated architectural framework, and painted in green wash, has some later Renaissance features, but recalls Donatello's compositions. In the same collection are two extremely curious pen-and-ink drawings which give variants of Donatello's tomb of John XXIII. in the Baptistery. The first of them (No. 660) shows the Pope in his tiara, whereas on the tomb this symbol of the Papacy occupies a subordinate place. The Charity below carries children, another variant from the tomb itself. The second study (No.

661) gives the effigy of a bareheaded knight in full armour lying to the left, and the basal figures also differ from those on the actual tomb. These drawings are certainly of the fifteenth century, and even if not directly traceable to Donatello himself, are important from their relation to the great tomb of the Pope, for which Donatello was responsible. But we have no right to say that even these are Donatello's own work. In fact, drawings on paper by Donatello would seem inherently improbable. Although he almost drew in marble when working in _stiacciato_, the lowest kind of relief, he was essentially a modeller, rather than a draughtsman. Leonardo was just the reverse; Michael Angelo was both, but with him sculpture was _the_ art.

Donatello had small sense of surface or silhouette, and we would not expect him to commit his ideas to paper, just as Nollekens,[78] who drew so badly that he finally gave up drawing, and limited himself to modelling instead--turning the clay round and round and observing it from different aspects, thus employing a tactile in place of a pictorial medium. Canova also trusted chiefly to the plastic sense to create the form. But Donatello must nevertheless have used pen and ink to sketch the tombs, the galleries, the Roman tabernacle, and similar works. It is unfortunate that none of his studies can be identified.

There is, however, one genuine sketch by Donatello, but it is a sketch in clay. The London Panel[79] was made late in life, when Donatello left a considerable share to his a.s.sistants. It is therefore a valuable doc.u.ment, showing Donatello's system as regards his own preliminary studies and the amount of finishing he would leave to pupils. We see his astonishing plastic facility, and the ease with which he could improvise by a few curves, depressions and prominences so complex a theme as the Flagellation, or Christ on the Cross. It is a marvel of dexterity.

[Footnote 64: Domopera archives, 12, viii., 1412.]

[Footnote 65: _Ibid._, 31, xii., 1407.]

[Footnote 66: Padua, 3, iv., 1443.]

[Footnote 67: When working at Pisa in 1427. See Centofanti, p. 4.]

[Footnote 68: Commission for bronze Baptist for Ancona, 1422.]

[Footnote 69: Contract in Orvieto archives, 10, ii., 1423.]

[Footnote 70: Domopera, 2, ix., 1429.]

[Footnote 71: _Ibid._ 18, iii., 1426.]