i- HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. I X Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2016 https://archive.org/details/historyofmoderniOOwill CICERO AND CATILINE FROM THE FRESCO BY MACCARI IN THE PALAZZO DEL SENATO, ROME SEE PAGE 438 HISTORY i OF MODERN ITALIAN ART BY ASHTON ROLLINS WILLARD IVITI/ ILLUSTRATIONS LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO. 39 PATERNOSTER ROW, LONDON NEW YORK AND BOMBAY 1898 Copyright, 1898, By ASHTON ROLLINS WILLARD. Karfajooti iPress J. S. Cushing & Co. Berwick 3 c Smith Norwood Mass. U.S.A. THE GETTY CEHTm Lxmmf PREFACE. In writing this book I trust that I have not taken a wholly one-sided view of my subject. I certainly have not been conscious of any wish either to de- monstrate that the art-work of the period under con- sideration was wholly good or that it was wholly bad. At the beginning I shared the feeling which we all have to some extent, that modern Italian art was degenerate, far removed in its standards and in its results from the art of the best period ; but much study of the subject has led me to alter that view very materially. No one could have followed my line of work, step by step, without becoming convinced that the common feeling, to which I have alluded, was based to a certain extent upon prejudice and lack of information, and that a more generous attitude ought to be taken toward the men who, in the face of many discouragements, have so bravely struggled to redeem the art of the peninsula from the reproach which has been cast upon it. Of course there is one barrier to our apprecia- tion of a portion of the art-work reviewed in this VI PREFACE. book which it is difficult to overcome, and that is the barrier created by the reaction against a style just out of favor. This reaction is a natural and necessary result of the laws of taste, and the only mistake which we make while under the influence of it is to regard our temporary dislike as based upon permanent defects in the art-product itself. Artists of profound conviction and critics who study only the art of their own time, invariably make this mistake. They genuinely dislike the form of art favored by the generations immediately preceding them, and are unable to believe that it can ever have a future — just as the artists of the time of Raphael were unable to believe that the discarded style of Fra Angelico could ever again be admired by any rational human being. I rec- ognize this fact, and also the further fact that it places the work of the classicists and purists — the two earlier schools of the modern period — beyond the pale of natural appreciation. The reader, how- ever, who stops to think must see that the style of the day is merely the outer envelope of an artist’s expression, and that real talent, not to say genius, will disclose itself whatever may be the school to which the possessor of it belongs. In the absence of any existing general source of information on the subject of which this book treats, I have been obliged to bring my material PREFACE. Vll together from a great variety of sources. I may say more frankly that half of the interest of the work has lain in the research which it required, and that the mere turning into English of any existing Italian book on the subject — if there had been any — would have possessed little attraction. Much of my information as to the leading contem- porary artists has been obtained by face-to-face conversation with them. The facts which it was necessary to collect as to others have been in many cases furnished to me in manuscript by their fami- lies, friends, or descendants. Beside face-to-face conversation and manuscript information, I have utilized every possible detail which could be gath- ered from reviews, newspapers, and pamphlets ; and as to this last source of information — pamphlet material — I should mention that by rare good fortune there came into my possession a collection of fugitive publications, relating to the period be- tween 1820 and 1870, which had been formed by a veteran professor of art in one of the Italian academies, and which gave me very ample mate- rial on a division of my subject where information was the most difficult to obtain. Among recent publications the one which I found of most value was the Dizionario degli artisti italiani viventi, published at Florence in 1889-1893 under the direction of the distinguished writer. Count Angelo Vlll PREFACE. De Gubernatis ; and many of the biographical facts contained in my chapters on artists now living are given upon the authority of that volume. For pos- sible side-lights on the men of the earlier school I have consulted volumes of memoirs by French, German, and English authors resident in Italy. Except in this latter form, that is to say of occa- sional passages in memoirs and diaries, I have found no information in English which was of any value to me ; and I therefore believe that the facts which I am giving to the reader in this volume are now receiving their first English presentation. Among the persons who have given me assist- ance or encouragement in one form or another — and to whom I now wish to express my sense of deep indebtedness — are the Commendatore Ca- millo Boito, President of the Royal Academy at Milan, the Commendatore Giulio Cantalamessa, Director of the Royal Galleries at Venice, Baron Giovanni Battista Camuccini of Rome, the Cavali- ere Attilio Centelli of Venice, the Commendatore Benedetto Civiletti of Palermo, Professor Giuseppe Cassioli of Florence, Professor Virgilio Colombo of Milan, the Commendatore Guglielmo De Sanctis of Rome, Signorina Amalia Dupre of Florence, Signora Luisa Franchi of Siena, the Commenda- tore Francesco Jacovacci, Director of the National Gallery of Modern Art at Rome, the Commenda- PREFACE. IX tore Lorenzo Luchi of Florence, Signora Carolina Maccari of Rome, Signorina Giulietta Mussini of Siena, Professor Mario Rutelli of Palermo, Profes- sor Giovanni Scarfi of Messina, Professor Antonio Simonazzi of Modena, and Professor Giulio Aris- tide Sartorio formerly of Rome. I wish also to reaffirm my sense of obligation to Senator Pasquale Villari for assistance rendered me in obtaining ma- terial for my monograph on the painter Morelli, published in 1894, — material which has been partly re-used in one of the chapters of this volume ; and to particularly mention my indebtedness to Doctor Giulio Carotti, Secretary of the Milan Academy, who is, so to speak, the official authority on the subject of the fine arts in Lombardy, and whose help has been of the greatest value to me at all stages of my work. November i, 1898. A. R. W. Nil s? ■i • j i CONTENTS PART I. SCULPTURE. CHAPTER I. PAGE The Revival of the Classic Style by Canova and his Contemporaries 3 CHAPTER II. Lorenzo Bartolini, the Leader of the Reaction against Classicism . 61 CHAPTER HI. The Transition from Classicism to Naturalism . . loi CHAPTER IV. The Development of Naturalism in the Work of Vin- cenzo Vela . 137 CHAPTER V. Recent Sculptors of Southern Italy . . . .156 CHAPTER VI. Recent Sculptors of CExNtral Italy 195 CHAPTER VIE Recent Sculptors of Northern Italy .... 224 Xll CONTENTS. PART II. PAINTING. CHAPTER VIII. PAGE Vincenzo Camuccini, the Leading Painter of the Classic Movement 247 CHAPTER IX. Other Classic Painters 274 CHAPTER X. Pre-Raphaelitism and Romanticism 290 CHAPTER XI. Other Phases of the Reaction against Classicism . . 322 CHAPTER XII. The Leaders of the Modern Neapolitan School . . 342 CHAPTER XIII. Recent Painters of Southern Italy 373 CHAPTER XIV. Recent Painters of Central Italy 408 CHAPTER XV. Recent Painters of Northern Italy 459 PART III. ARCHITECTURE. CHAPTER XVI. Architects of the Classic Movement, and their Contem- poraries AND Successors 503 Recent Architects . CHAPTER XVII. 528 ILLUSTRATIONS. Cicero and Catiline, from the fresco by Maccari in the Palazzo del Senato, Rome. Photograph by R. Moscioni, Rome Frontispiece TO FACE PAGE Clement XIV, from the marble by Canova in the church of the SS. Apostoli, Rome. Photograph by R. Moscioni, Rome . 20 Canova Monument, from the marbles by Rinaldi, Fabris, and others in the church of the Frari, Venice. Photograph by Naya, Venice 46 Demidoff Monument, from the marbles by Bartolini at Flor- ence. Photograph by Fratelli Alinari, Florence ... 84 PiETA, from the marble by Dupre in the Cimitero della Miseri- cordia at Siena. Photograph by Lombardi, Siena . .122 Columbus Monument, from the marbles by Bartolini, Freccia, and others in the Piazza Acquaverde, Genoa . . .126 Last Days of Napoleon, from the replica of the original mar- ble by Vela in the Corcoran Museum of Art, Washington . 150 CiESAR AS A Youth, from the plaster model by Civiletti . .184 Revolution, from the plaster model by Ximenes . . .190 Madonna and Child, from the marble by Monteverde in the Camposanto at Genoa 202 Ovid, from the marble by Ferrari ...... 206 Titian, from the plaster model by Dal Zotto .... 236 Goldoni, from the bronze by Dal Zotto in the Campo S. Bar- tolomeo at Venice ........ 238 xiii XIV ILLUSTRATIONS. TO FACl Death of Caesar, from an engraving of the painting by Camuccini Eudorus giving his Cloak to a Slave, from the painting by Mussini in the Academy of Fine Arts at Florence. Photo- graph by Fratelli Alinari Study of a Nun’s Head, from the painting by Hayez Madonna of the Golden Stair, from the painting by Morelli. Photograph by Luigi Guida, Naples Sheep, from the painting by Palizzi., Photograph by Luigi Guida Sleeping Shepherdess, from an engraving of the painting by Michetti Madonna of the Angels, from the painting by Sartorio . In the Temple of Bacchus, from the painting by Muzzioli. Photograph by Fratelli Alinari Ploughing in the Engadine, from the painting by Segantini . Candidum Lilium, from the painting by Laurenti Madonna and Child, from the painting by Barabino now in the Royal Villa at Monza. Photograph by Fratelli Alinari Arch of Peace at Milan, from the original by Cagnola . Interior of the Basilica of St. Paul at Rome, from the original by Poletti Facade of the Cathedral at Florence, from the original by De Fabris. Photograph by Fratelli Alinari Grand Staircase of the Franchetti Palace at Venice, from the original by Boito National Monument to Victor Emmanuel at Rome, from the design by Sacconi, published in the Edilizia Moderna , Milan PACE 252 306 320 358 370 404 428 456 476 484 496 506 524 536 550 564 PART I. SCULPTURE. CHAPTER I. THE REVIVAL OF THE CLASSIC STYLE BY CANOVA AND HIS CONTEMPORARIES. General interest felt in Italian art throughout Europe at the begin- ning of the present century. — Especially in Italian sculpture. — Necessity of commencing the history of modern art with a review of the classic revival. — The classic a reaction against the baroque. — Initial forces of the classic revival. — Raphael Mengs and his theories. — Winckelmann and his admiration for Greek art. — The conversion of Canova to the doctrines of the classicists. — Char- acter of Canova’s early work. — The statues of Eurydice and Orpheus. — His style becomes classic after his removal to Rome. — The tombs of the Clements. — Subsequent works. — Re- lations between Canova and Napoleon. — Statue of the Empress Marie Louise. — Canova’s visit to England in 1815. — Statue of Washington. — The Temple at Possagno. — Canova as a painter. — The cenotaph in the church of the Frari at Venice. — General estimate of Canova as an artist and as a man. — Leading sculptors of the classic movement in other parts of Italy. — Sculptors at PTor- ence during the classic — Spinazzi^ Carradon, ?ind Ricci. — Tomb of Dante by Ricci in S. Croce. — Sculptors at Milan.— Camillo Pacetti. — He is summoned from Rome to take the direc- tion of the school of sculpture at the Milan Academy. — He con- tributes several works to the decoration of the Arch of Peace. — Other sculptors of the classic movement. I REGRET that I cannot, at the commencement of this book, transport the reader by some mesmeric process into the midst of the cultivated life of the higher social circles in one of the great European 3 4 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. capitals of eighty years ago, and so save myself the trouble of creating in his mind the sympathy for this first division of my subject which, in such a case, would come to him naturally and inevitably. It is impossible to take up a memoir or biog- raphy of that period, touching the life of a person interested in art, without observing that the Italian art of the day was a matter of vital concern, more particularly the sculptural art. Canova’s reputation was then at its height. Every one who had the slightest contact with him magnified it in his con- versation and in his correspondence. This was particularly true in England at the time of the re- adjustments following the final defeat of Napoleon in 1815. The gifted and amiable Italian, who for twenty years had been delighting the whole art world by his graceful creations, was then in Lon- don — called there to pronounce an expert opinion upon the Elgin marbles. He was revered as the greatest plastic artist of his time. His voice was the Delphic oracle of sculpture. A single immer- sion in the current of art-opinion of that day would leave one in a wholly readjusted attitude toward modern Italian art; certainly toward its possibili- ties. It would give the reader a tendency to look upon the subject without prejudices and a willing- ness to consider the Italian artist in a favorable light, which I should be most glad to create in his mind here at the beginning of this first chapter. CANOVA AND HIS CONTEMPORARIES. 5 I do not know that I should have gone back to Canova in undertaking to write a history of modern Italian art if that course had not seemed the only consistent one as I went thoroughly to the bottom of the subject. The classic movement of the last years of the last century is the basis upon which the present structure rests. It is necessary to un- derstand that movement in order to see clearly the sequence which led to the totally different art-prod- uct of our own time. The foundation is a singu- lar one, however. The present art-structure rests upon it by not resting upon it. It has come to be what it is by sheer reaction. No one can under- stand Bartolini — the great modern leader — with- out understanding Canova. An important element in the controlling motive of the former was a de- sire to get away from what the latter had done. Bartolini did not himself entirely understand the impulses which prompted him to do as he did; but this unconscious reaction constituted two-thirds of the dynamic pressure which forced him into the development of his own peculiar individual style. In the same way the art of Canova was a reac- tion against the art of the school which had pre- ceded him — the school of the seventeenth century. But it is not necessary to go into that subject be- cause it has received abundant, and more than abundant, literary illumination already. Suffice it to say that the initiative of the art movement of the seventeenth century was given by Michelangelo 6 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. during the sixteenth, and that the kernel-idea was the emphasis of character. The public of his time, tired of the super-refined, characterless, vapid, in- sipid form of art produced by Raphael in his later Madonnas, welcomed the change to something more strongly impregnated with character. The tide once turned, it received an additional impetus from the clever work of Bernini which was precisely adapted to meet the taste of the day and the craving for effects which were bold, emphatic, bordering at times on the startling ; and it came to its height in the work of Bernini’s successors who contributed no new ideas, but simply gave the old ones an en- larged, or, as we should now say, exaggerated, application. In the natural course of events the public at last became tired of this form of art and yearned for something new ; and it was at this psy- chological juncture that the classicists came forward and, with Canova as the most brilliant exponent of their ideas, gave a new direction to the art-product of Italy and indeed to that of the whole of Europe. The origin of the classic movement goes back as far as the discovery of the buried art-treasures of Pompeii and Herculaneum during the reign of Charles III of Naples in the middle of the last century. The movement was very materially helped along by the writings and teachings of two Ger- mans, whose names afterward became familiar to every one because of their prominent connection with this effort to restore classic art to favor,— CANOVA AND HIS CONTEMPORARIES. 7 Anton Raphael Mengs and Johann Joachim Winck- elmann. Mengs invented the doctrine which later became the creed of the eclectic school in painting, and Winckelmann made himself the leader of the more strictly classic school which insisted upon the adoption without any reservation of the principles of art which had been practised by the Greeks. The movements headed by these two men were kept distinct, and, although they sometimes ap- proached very closely, they never merged com- pletely into each other. Mengs came to Italy to reside in 1751, and almost immediately began to antagonize the ideas which then controlled the pro- duction of Italian studios and to insist upon a re- turn to the art-principles of the sixteenth century. His theory was that the way to make a perfect work of art was to combine the excellencies of the greatest artists of the renaissance. Correggio hav- ing excelled in chiaroscuro, modern painters should try to make the chiaroscuro of their pictures like Correggio’s. The Venetians having excelled in color, the coloring should be patterned after that model. And Raphael having excelled in expres- sion, artists who wished to make their work perfect in that particular should imitate Raphael. Mengs apparently never stopped to think that color and light-and-shade are inseparably linked together, and that it was impossible to copy the chiaroscuro of one artist while copying the coloring of an artist of a widely different style. He was carried away by 8 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. the enthusiasms which usually animate leaders of great movements, and he insisted that the facts should be made to yield to his a priori theories. Winckelmann cared less for painting than he did for sculpture, and less for the art of the sixteenth century than he did for the antique. He had what would be called aplastic mind; color was secondary to him and form was primary. He was completely carried away by the charm of antique sculpture, and the aesthetic principles which he began to promulgate as early as 1755 reduced themselves in substance to one dictum : Imitate the Greek. Winckelmann found that the Greek work differed from the work of the sculptors of his own time — he wrote when the baroque movement had reached its most extravagant phase — in being more noble and simple, more tranquil and grand ; and his in- sistence upon the uniting of these qualities in mod- ern works of art made the terms “ noble simplicity ” and “ tranquil grandeur ” the watchwords of his school. Winckelmann’s classicism was so much more uncompromising than that of Mengs, and it compelled so much more artificial a style upon the artists who adopted his principles, that the move- ment exhausted itself and led to a reaction of taste earlier than the movement of Mengs. Classicism began to wane soon after the death of Canova; but a modified form of eclecticism still continued to be both preached and practised at Rome down to the middle of the century. CANOVA AND HIS CONTEMPORARIES. 9 Canova was comparatively uninfluenced by the classical movement until after he came to Rome in 1779. The circumstances of his birth and early training were not such as to bring him into imme- diate contact with ideas which were, when he was a boy, quite new and only just beginning to gain a foothold in the large and progressive art centres. He was born November i, 1757,^ at Possagno, a little town at the foot of one of the valleys which lead up into the Venetian Alps, even now inaccessible by the railway, and much more remote from the great world in 1757 than it is at present. His whole boyhood, until he was twelve or thirteen years of age, was passed in this immediate vicinity, and if his talent had not fortunately been discov- ered by an intelligent patron, and special opportu- nities given him to develop it before it was too late, he might have passed all his days in obscurity, and never made his name any better known than that of a score of other boys who grew up side by side with him in his native village. His father, Pietro Canova, died, as appears from the municipal records of Possagno, on the second day of August, 1761, when the future sculptor was only three years old, and his mother almost imme- diately contracted a second marriage with Fran- cesco Sartor, of the neighboring village of Cres- pano. After his mother s second marriage, Antonio ^ In the official record of his birth his name is given as Giovanni Antonio Canova, but he was always known simply as Antonio. lO HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. Canova lived with his grandfather Pasin Canova, a scarpellino or stone carver, of much more than or- dinary cleverness, who gave the boy his first lessons in the use of the chisel. Pasin Canova was occa- sionally employed by Giovanni Falier, a Venetian nobleman, who resided in a villa near Asolo, and on one occasion when Pasin took his grandson with him to the Villa Falier, the master of the establishment looked at some of the boy’s draw- ings, became convinced that he deserved better opportunities for study than he would be likely to receive while remaining with his grandfather, and found him a place with a Venetian sculptor who was then working at Pagnano, another small place in the neighborhood of Asolo and Possagno. The proper name of this sculptor was Bernardi, but he called himself Torretto, adopting the surname of an uncle who had distinguished himself as a sculptor. The works of the first Torretto are sometimes re- ferred to as being by the “ master of Canova ” ; but Canova was not born until a number of years after the older Torretto died. There is a story that Canova’s first plastic work was a lion modelled in butter to ornament Count Falier’s dinner table. The story has been worked up by different writers ; there is, for example, a small book in French, published at Tours, in 1866, in a series of volumes for the instruction of the young, which is entitled “ Le Lion de beurre de Canova.” According to the story the maitre d’hotel CANOVA AND HIS CONTEMPORARIES. ll of Count Falier, being unable to procure a proper ornament to give dignity to the decorations of the dinner table on a sudden invasion of guests into the house, pressed the young Canova, whose plastic talents he had previously discovered, into the ser- vice, and set him to modelling a lion in butter. The lion was much admired by all the guests, and, according to the anecdote, was the first proof of the boy s skill which had ever come to the notice of the head of the house, and which led him to take the young artist under his protection. The present Count Falier, not wishing to rob the world of so piquant an anecdote, cautiously refrains from asserting that it is false ; but he takes equal pains to assert, if interrogated on the subject, that there is no tradition in his family which justifies him in pronouncing it to be true. When Bernardi finished his work at Pagnano he returned to Venice, and the young Canova, follow- ing him there, continued to work under his direc- tion, and afterward, for a short time, under that of another member of the same family, and at the same time commenced the regular study of art in the Academy. The Venice Academy at that time was a poorly equipped institution, installed in cer- tain rooms in a building nearly opposite the Dogana di Mare, now used as the office of the harbor mas- ter. The facilities for study were poor; the insti- tution owned no casts, and it was the custom of the instructors to take the pupils, or to allow them 12 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. to go themselves, to the Palazzo Farsetti (now the Municipio), where the Abbe Filippo Farsetti had brought together a number of reproductions of classic sculpture and other works of art, which he threw open to the public, and which, in default of any public gallery, offered more valuable mate- rial for study than any other collection to which the pupils of the Academy could have access. Some of the best antiques were in this collec- tion, but Canova was not immediately influenced by them. After remaining with the nephew of Bernardi for only a very short period, he estab- lished himself in an independent studio in the cloister of the convent of S. Stefano, and in the year 1773 he modelled a figure of Eurydice, which shows that at this stage of his career he was still under the influence of the school of Bernini. This figure of Eurydice was carved for his patron and protector, Giovanni Ealier, and after it was com- pleted it was placed in the large hall on the ground floor of the Villa Ealier at Asolo, where it still re- mains. In this hall are now to be seen three works of Canova, which show him at three interesting periods of his career: the first being an imitative period, when he w^as still under the influence of the baroque movement ; the second a personal period, when he had abandoned the ideas of Bernini, and had not adopted those of the classic revival ; and the third being the period of his mature work, when he had surrendered himself entirely to the charm CANOVA AND HIS CONTEMPORARIES. 13 of antique art. The marks of the influence of the school of Bernini, in the Eurydice, are certain peculiarities in the pose and the proportions. The figure has the exaggerated breadth of hips which Michelangelo introduced into sculpture when he modelled the recumbent statue of Night for the Medici tomb, and the pose is the contorted, over- agitated pose, which Bernini and his followers habit- ually adopted for the purpose of heightening the expression of their works. Canova continued to live at Venice from 1773, the date of the Eurydice, until 1776, when he mod- elled the companion statue of Orpheus; but in that interval he produced no work which is now known. The Orpheus, like the statue of which it is the pen- dant, is now in the long hall on the ground floor of the Villa F'alier, and is much more nearly in the taste of the present day than any of Canova’s earlier or later compositions. If its merits could be gen- erally known, it would undoubtedly be universally acclaimed by connoisseurs as his best work. Un- fortunately it has never been photographed, and the only reproduction of it which is now accessible is the engraving in outline contained in the Italian edition of the engraved works of Canova and re- peated in the various foreign editions which have been copied from the Italian one. The engraving represents the Orpheus as having about the same baroque characteristics as the Eurydice, — exag- gerated development of certain parts of the figure. 14 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. particularly the shoulders, and a too exaggerated expression of countenance. The figure of the Or- pheus is, in fact, very close to the normal human figure in its best estate ; and the expression is ele- vated, noble, and self-contained. The delicate mod- elling of the limbs shows not only that Canova was possessed of remarkably acute perceptions, but that he looked at the human body sympathetically, and, by an instinct peculiar to himself, selected and mod- ified the details which needed some slight change in order to bring them to a higher degree of perfec- tion. The working of the same instinct is shown in the modelling of the face. Canova made an un- conscious analysis and judiciously brought into greater prominence the muscles which would give noble, manly dignity to the expression. Later he did these things according to a borrowed formula, and gave certain contours to certain portions of the figure because the Greeks did it. In certain un- essential details the Orpheus also shows singular merit. The ram’s skin which hangs from the cord about his waist is modelled in an original form, and shows that Canova, if he had not later compelled himself to move in a groove, would have been pro- lific in invention and capable of varying infinitely the commonplace accessories of a sculptural work which artists, who are guided by convention merely, are forever repeating after the same fashion. The laurel wreath on the head of Orpheus is also so modelled as to give an effect of great elegance to CANOVA AND HIS CONTEMPORARIES. 15 the contour of this part of the figure. The com- prehensive comment which one is moved to make, upon looking at the whole work, is that here was a man who was obeying the direct instincts of a rarely refined artistic nature without any regard to what had been thought to be beautiful or estab- lished as beautiful by other artists before him. In addition to the merit of the work as a piece of mod- elling it should be added that the stone out of which it is carved has, in the course of a hundred and twenty years, taken on a surface like Greek marble, which adds perceptibly to the beauty of the effect. Canova removed from the cloister of S. Stefano after modelling the Orpheus and established him- self in somewhat more commodious though still humble quarters near the Palazzo Corner della Ca Grande on the Grand Canal, and here he modelled his first group in marble representing Daedalus binding wings to the arms of Icarus which was afterward so much admired, and which is now so picturesquely backgrounded and surrounded in the Giovanni Bellini room (Sala XVII) at the Venice Academy of Fine Arts. The Cavaliere Centelli, who at my request made a careful inquiry into the life of Canova at Venice to discover what could be learned of the different studios which he had occu- pied, says that his atelier on the Grand Canal was established in a mere shed long since removed, and that its site is now marked by a tablet set in the i6 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. wall of the Palazzo Corner on which one may read, by pushing aside the climbing plants with which it is half overgrown, the words “Antonio Canova In questo sito Gia sua officina Scolpiva nel 1779 II primo suo gruppo Dedalo ed Icaro.” The group of Daedalus and Icarus is one of in- terest and value for the same reasons which render the Orpheus valuable and interesting; it was pro- duced before the sculptor had absorbed the prin- ciples of classic art, and while he still aimed to reproduce the human figure as he saw it, saving such modifications as his own instinctive taste sug- gested. The figure of Daedalus must have very closely followed the original model, for the Venetian public recognized it as a portrait of a certain well- known gondolier whom Canova had in fact em- ployed to pose for him. The expression of the boy may seem open to criticism ; it is not clear, for example, why he should be so absolutely without concern, why he should wear simply this expression of foolish repugnance at having the wings bound to his arms instead of showing something of the fear which the immediate prospect of so rash an advent- ure would naturally have inspired in him. Some of those who see the group may also be disposed to raise the query why the father should be represented as binding on the wings with a cord, inasmuch as according to the legend it was the melting of the wax by which they were joined to his shoulders which caused the catastrophe. In justification of CANOVA AND HIS CONTEMPORARIES. 17 Canova’s design, in this last particular, it should be said that according to other versions of the story it was the wings themselves, not the fastenings, which were of wax, and the final descent of the unfortunate youth into the Icarian sea was caused by the collapse of his wings altogether. The three other works which Canova carved at Venice before he left that city to establish himself at Rome were the ideal figure of ^sculapius, the statue of the Marquis Poleni, and the bust of the Doge Paolo Renier. As it curiously happens these are all three now at Padua, having found their way there at different times and in different manners. The statue of the Marquis Poleni, which is quite without interest, forms now one of the cordon of statues which surround, like sentinels, the oval pleasure ground at the end of the town near the basilica of S. Antonio, called the Prato della Valle. The statue of /Esculapius, which is perhaps not wholly commonplace and which may be distin- guished by some marks showing that it came from the hand of an artist of independent ideas, is now in the vestibule of the Paduan Civic Mu- seum. The bust of the Doge Renier is set down in D’Este’s catalogue of Canova’s works as having been lost, and I should have had no indication of its whereabouts if the Cavaliere Centelli had not traced it from hand to hand and found that it was now in the same museum as the statue of yEscu- lapius — in one of the rooms where are gathered i8 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. together the objects belonging to the collection of the late Signor Bottacini of Trieste. The bust, which is set down in the D’Este catalogue under date of 1776 has, as the Cavaliere Centelli notes, an incorrect date assigned to it, inasmuch as Re- nier did not become doge until 1779, and is repre- sented in the portrait as wearing the insignia of his office — the Phrygian cap and ermine mantle. The bust is in terra cotta and has been broken and repaired. On the pedestal are inscribed the words, Tutela Canovae. The face is an unmodified por- trait showing the physiognomy of the genial old man precisely as he must have looked in real life, without a single classic touch to lessen the authen- ticity of the likeness. Canova was assisted by the Doge Renier to ob- tain a pension from the Venetian government which enabled him to remove to Rome in December, 1780, and take up his residence in the latter city. Under the terms of his pension he could only have remained there for three years, but he decided at the end of that time to sever all his connections with Venice and make the papal city his perma- nent residence. Rome was a far different place in Canova’s time from what it is now. It was a Eu- ropean capital, and still retained a certain European ascendency as a social and artistic centre. The most distinguished families of Germany, Erance and England found it agreeable to pass certain months of the winter there, and Berlin, Paris and CANOVA AND HIS CONTEMPORARIES. 19 London furnished no such formidable competition in art then as they do now. The existence of an important court further south, at Naples, occasioned much passing back and forth of important person- ages through Rome ; and the sojourns of these individuals in the papal city helped to increase its importance as a social centre, and to bring to it patrons for the Roman artists. The first Roman studio of Canova was in the Palazzo di Venezia, which was then the residence of the Venetian ambassador, Girolamo Zuliani, one of the particular friends of the young sculptor. Upon arriving at Rome Canova came immediately under the influence of the school of Winckelmann, and his pliable nature was much affected by it. What would have become of him and of his art if he had remained at Venice, and how long it would have retained its original, beautiful, naive form cannot be known ; but he would not unlikely have been subjected there to much the same influ- ences which intervened to give a new direction to his energies at Rome, inasmuch as the classic move- ment extended its influence and its propaganda over the whole of Italy. His first important Ro- man work, Theseus triumphing over the Minotaur, proves that from the very beginning he was dis- posed to allow himself to be drawn into the new current. The first marble version of this work was sold to an Austrian nobleman. The orio^inal model, which is preserved at Possagno, shows that in the 20 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. Theseus Canova had ceased to govern himself by the living model and had taken counsel of the an- tique. The head is too small for the body, and the whole figure suggests a reduced copy of an antique Hercules. The monument to Pope Clement XIV of the Ganganelli family was the first work by which Ca- nova brought his capacities prominently to the notice of the Roman public. He received the com- mission for the monument in 1783, through the friendly offices of the engraver Volpato; and that Volpato should have been disposed to assist him seems curious in view of the fact that Volpato’s daughter refused Canova’s proposal of marriage — the only proposal of that description which he ever made to any one. Canova was grateful to the en- graver for procuring him the commission, and as a proof of his gratitude afterward erected a naively worded tablet in Volpato’s honor in the vestibule of the church where the papal monument stands, the church of the SS. Apostoli at Rome. The figure of the pope which crowns the sum- mit of this monument, and which was modelled by Canova when he was barely twenty-six years old, is one of the finest works of sculpture carved by any artist of any nation during the last hundred and fifty years. The pope is attired in his pontifi- cal robes with his triple crown on his head, and extends his right hand with a gesture which indi- cates sovereignty and protection. The observer CLEMENT XIV FROM THE MARBLE BY CAXOVA IX THE CHL^RCH OF SS. APOSTOLI, ROME 1 CANOVA AND HIS CONTEMPORARIES. 21 feels in an instant the sense of this gesture, and hardly needs to have it interpreted to him. Face and figure are in perfect unity of expression. The general conception was not tortured out of Canova’s mind by any laborious process of cogitation, but came to him like a fiash. This is proved by the small sketch-model now preserved in the Gypsoteca at Possagno — a model which is almost perfect in detail and identical in pose with the finished work. The idea was an inspiration in the only sense in which that word can be properly used in speaking of a work of art. It was unforced, spontaneous, something which welled up in the artist’s mind and did not have to be extracted from a reluctant fancy or built up by any conscious effort of imagi- nation. Of the accessory figures on the base little need be said. The draperies of the figure repre- senting Temperance on the left, leaning over the sarcophagus, are sensitively modelled ; they are more Greek than the draperies which the sculptor adopted later. The character of the face is not agreeable, being modelled after the inferior classic type, the type of the Venus de’ Medici, which Ca- nova had been taught to admire, and which almost hopelessly destroyed his liberty of hand in model- ling the feminine figure after this date. The various figures of this monument must have been carved in the studio to which Canova removed in the Via di S. Giacomo in Augusta, on the expira- tion of the Cavaliere Zuliani’s term of office as Ve- 22 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. netian ambassador in the summer of 1 783, and which he continued to occupy to the end of his life. This studio, occupied now as a printing-office, is situated on the corner of the Via di S. Giacomo and the Vicolo delle Colonnette; and the little door by which the sculptor was in the habit of entering it is in the latter street. At present the building is marked by several tablets, which render it easy to identify it ; and it is also further curiously decorated by a multitude of fragments of antique sculpture, which have been set into the yellow plaster of the wall, and which in Canova’s time were arranged upon shelves or wherever a resting place could be found for them in the interior of the studio. The second great papal monument which Canova designed, that to Pope Clement XIII of the Rez- zonico family in St. Peter’s, is almost as interesting as the first one. It is a composite of parts, each one of which is of some importance and value re- garded from a special point of view. The kneeling statue of the pontiff on the summit of the monu- ment is a good likeness of Clement ; and quite in- dependent of its success or insuccess as a portrait, it is a fine creation as a work of art. The engrav- ings by which it is generally known do not give an accurate idea of it. The pope is made to look more refined and more aristocratic in these reproductions than he did in fact. His countenance was plain and homely ; it was also rather heavy, with droop- ing cheeks and a tendency toward excessive adipose. CANOVA AND HIS CONTEMPORARIES. 23 All this excess is pared away in the engravings, but in the original marble and in the photographs it distinctly appears. The figure of the Genius, with the inverted torch, was the earliest of Canova’s creations of this type. He afterward repeated it in one or two instances, as, for example, in the monu- ment to the Archduchess Christina of Austria. The same figure also recurs, with some not unimportant variations, in the design for the Titian monument now preserved in the Museo Civico at Venice. The two lions, one sleeping, one waking, guarding the doorway which appears to give admission to the tomb, were greatly lauded in their day, and are still admired. Many replicas in small dimensions have been made of them. Modern sculptors, who follow closely in their own work the principles of natural- ism, have pronounced them to be works of perma- nent value, recognizing the success with which Canova impressed upon them the leonine charac- ter, although he had no living models to work from. The tall figure of Religion, which serves as a pen- dant to the figure of the Genius, also has its interest from the fact that it is almost the sole instance in which Canova undertook to model a female figure of majesty and force. In his first sketch-model of this monument, which one may still see at Possagno, the figure of Religion, with her cross and crown, appears as a bas-relief upon a high semicircular base. It would have been better to have adhered to this idea in the final design, since the colossal 24 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. cross and the crown, with its projecting rays, were not adapted to be executed in relief. The colossal group, representing Hercules pre- cipitating the boy Lichas over a precipice, was modelled by Canova in clay as early as 1795, but was not carved in marble until a number of years afterward. It appears from the delay between the completion of the model and the carving of the marble that the sculptor had some difficulty in find- ing a purchaser for his huge composition, — a work which, as the artist’s alter ego, Antonio D’Este, states, was undertaken for the purpose of proving to his detractors that he could produce works of mascu- line vigor as well as works of feminine grace. The purchaser who finally presented himself was Don Giovanni Torlonia, the principal private patron of Roman art in the early years of the century. The original model of this work became the prop- erty of the Academy at Venice, and is now appro- priately placed in a huge niche at the end of the tenth room (Sala X ) of the gallery. Where Don Giovanni Torlonia first placed his marble version does not appear. The work stands at present at the end of a long room, known as the Hall of Her- cules and Lichas, on the first floor of the wing of the Torlonia palace constructed by Don Alessandro Torlonia in 1836. The sort of shrine which was built to receive it is semicircular in plan and cov- ered with a half dome. No color is used in the decoration of the wall or ceiling, and the colossal CANOVA AND HIS CONTEMPORARIES. 25 group is supported upon a severely plain base of veined yellow marble. Don Alessandro took great pains to give the work a suitable setting; but all that he did is very soon to be destroyed, as the whole front of the palace is to be pulled down in a few years to widen the Piazza di Venezia. Several of Canova’s works modelled between 1787 and 1804 have stood for many years side by side in the Marble Room of the Villa Carlotta on Lake Como, the room which is ornamented by the famous frieze by Thorvaldsen representing the En- try of Alexander into Babylon. These works were all purchased by Count Sommariva, who was one of the leading patrons of art in the early years of the century, and when the villa passed out of his hands the marbles were left in their places. The works by Canova include a bust of Venus, not of particular interest, a bust of the Count Sommariva (possibly a mistaken attribution as no such bust ap- pears in the lists of his works), a kneeling figure of the Magdalen, a group of Cupid and Psyche, and a standing figure of Palamedes. The best known of all of these is the group of Cupid and Psyche — the winged Cupid bending- over the recumbent Psyche — which has been made so familiar by photographs, engravings, and multi- tudes of small copies in relief. Canova modelled in 1797 another group of Cupid and Psyche stand- ing, but the second group never attained the popu- larity of the one at the Villa Carlotta. In the later 26 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. composition the expression of the faces was artifi- cial and weak ; in the earlier one it expressed genu- ine feeling. The grouping of the figures in the later work had nothing particularly pleasing about it, while the arrangement of the group at the Villa Carlotta was one of the most novel, the most ingen- ious, and the most striking of any of Canova’s inven- tions. If there is any disappointment upon seeing the original after seeing the copies and photographs, it is at finding the group slightly smaller than it should be and placed on somewhat too high a base. There are also some unfortunate defects in the marble, the discolorations on the right arm of the Cupid being especially noticeable. The kneeling figure of the Magdalen which stands in the same room at the Villa Carlotta is one of Canova’s most admired creations, principally for the reason that he chose to deviate for the mo- ment from the classic principles to which he had pledged himself and produced a work of strongly realistic character. The Magdalen has nothing which suggests the classic figure as we find it rep- resented in the Venuses and Graces, and very little which suggests the classic head and face. The comparison is easily made, inasmuch as there is a head of Venus by Canova on the opposite side of the same room, making it possible for the visitor to the Villa Carlotta to note the resemblances and differences without much difficulty. Canova may have been moved to abandon his classic principles CANOVA AND HIS CONTEMPORARIES. 27 in this case, because his subject was not classic, but this explanation is not a very satisfactory one for the reason that in a later work with a religious subject — the Pieta at Possagno — he modelled the figure and face of the Magdalen strictly according to classical rules. Besides the copy of the Magda- len at the Villa Carlotta there is another in the Palazzo Bianco at Genoa, which was presented to that city by the Duchess of Galliera. In the copy at the Palazzo Bianco the figure holds a cross in her hands ; in the version at the Villa Carlotta the position of the hands is the same, but the cross is lacking. The statue of Palamedes, which stands in the same room at the Villa Carlotta with the other works just mentioned, is a clever imitation of the antique, but has no other very positive merits. The statue is broken in two places as the result of an accident which happened to it before it left Cano- va’s studio. The figure was carved in the atelier in the Via di S. Giacomo in Augusta, which is not very far from the Tiber, and which was inundated, as was all the rest of that section of the city, at the time of the unparalleled flood of 1805. Shortly after the waters had subsided the studio was visited by Vincenzo Camuccini, the most distinguished and most talented Roman painter of the day, and as ardent a champion of classicism as Canova him- self. In order to exhibit the Palamedes from differ- ent points of view, the sculptor leaned down to turn 28 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. it on its supports and in so doing loosened the framework, which had been weakened by the water, and precipitated the whole heavy mass to the ground, being almost annihilated himself by the falling marble. As for the statue, it broke into three pieces and was delivered to Count Sommariva simply put together without any attempt at repair- ing the damage, which was indeed irreparable. One of the sequels of the accident was that Som- mariva asked Camuccini to paint the scene, think- ing that the picture would be most effective with the white models of Canova’s great works in the background and the two most celebrated artists of the day standing before the Palamedes. But the distinguished painter declined the commission, rec- ognizing that the subject lay outside of his province, and that he would probably produce an unsatisfac- tory result if he undertook to experiment with it. Canova was summoned to Paris in 1802 to model a likeness of the First Consul for a colossal standing fiorure in marble which he had been commissioned O to execute. The sculptor was not pleased at the thought of undertaking the laborious journey to Paris, and would have been quite willing to form his ideas of the features of the First Consul from the multitude of prints and portraits which were everywhere accessible ; and as it proved in the end he might quite as well have worked from these second- hand data, since the head which he set upon the shoulders of the statue bears only a distant re- CANOVA AND HIS CONTEMPORARIES. 29 semblance to the person whom it was intended to represent, and simply conveys a general idea of his features. The journey was made, however, and the bust was modelled. What became of this original likeness I am unable to determine. There are two busts in plaster in the Gypsoteca at Possagno: one representing Napoleon with the shoulders nude, the other with the high collar and embroidered coat of a French uniform. Either of these, or neither, may be the original portrait. Both of them represent him as he might have looked in 1802, but both seem slightly retouched, and do not possess the qualities of a photographic likeness which one would expect to find in a study made by the sculp- tor with the model before his eyes. The fine bust in marble now in the Pitti Palace is not like either of the busts at Possagno, and resembles much more closely the head of the finished statue for which the likeness was originally taken. This finished statue was not sent to Paris until 1812, two years before the great collapse, and was not liked by the emperor when it appeared. As those who have seen the original or photographs of it are aware, the figure is entirely nude save for some folds of drapery which hang from the left arm. Likeness to Napoleon in the figure there is none, and there was intended to be none. The trunk and limbs are modelled after the antique in colossal proportions, without any regard to the actual proportions of the individual whom the 30 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. statue was intended to represent. It is suggested by Quatremere de Quincy that Napoleon disliked the work because of the nudity of the figure. In a jesting conversation which passed between the em- peror and the sculptor on the subject, and which may be read at length in the life of Canova by Mis- sirini, Napoleon asked Canova why he had modelled it nude, and Canova answered, at first seriously, though somewhat enigmatically, that “ the language of statuary is the nude,” and afterward said laugh- ingly that “ God Almighty could not have made a presentable statue of the emperor in top boots and trousers.” Although the reason of his displeasure can never be known with certainty, Napoleon was certainly dissatisfied with the work when completed and never allowed it to be shown to the public. When it arrived in Paris it was placed in one of the rooms on the ground floor of the Louvre, and was afterward moved to one side and concealed from view by a screen of boards and canvas. After the entry of the allies into the French capital, the statue passed in some way, by what right or title does not distinctly appear, into the possession of the Prince Regent, and the Prince Regent presented it to the Duke of Wellington, who placed it in the hall at Apsley House, where it still remains. There are two copies of the work in Italy: one in marble in a room on the ground floor of the National Museum at Naples, near the stairs leading to the basement, and one in bronze in the centre of the courtyard of the Palace CANOVA AND HIS CONTEMPORARIES. 31 of the Brera at Milan. The Brera copy was cast during Canova’s lifetime, and it is through this par- ticular version that the work has become most generally known. Its position is in some respects fortunate, and in some respects unfortunate. It is well backgrounded and surrounded, but it has no covering overhead, and the bronze has consequently become much streaked and discolored by exposure to the weather. Canova made a second journey to Paris in 1810 for the purpose of modelling the bust of the Em- press Marie Louise ; and it was at this time that the conversation above referred to took place in which the sculptor tried to explain to Napoleon why it was necessary that his own statue should be nude. The portrait of Marie Louise which Canova then modelled was intended to be used, and was in fact used, in completing the seated marble figure of the empress which the sculptor had been commis- sioned to execute some years before. This statue is now in the Royal Pinacoteca at Parma and stands all alone in the centre of the largest room in the gallery. The empress is represented in the person of the goddess Concordia, wears the robes of a Roman matron, sits in a Roman chair, and holds in her hands a Roman staff and patera ; but the face is a faithful portrait. Only a few steps away in room XI of the same gallery there is a likeness of the ex-empress, painted soon after she became Duch- ess of Parma, by Gian Battista Borghesi, and a com- 32 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. parison of the face as painted and the face as carved makes it clear that Canova must have closely fol- lowed the features of his model. Marie Louise seems to have placed a high value upon this statue ; for she took it with her when she left Paris, and had it brought to her villa of Colorno when she finally established herself in Italy. After her death it was presented by Leopold of Austria to the city of Parma with directions that it should be placed in the Pinacoteca, but that the legal ownership should vest in the municipality. When Canova made his journey to Paris in i8io, for the purpose of modelling the bust of the empress, he was accompanied by his half-brother, the Abbe Sartori ; and the abbe, at the close of each day s visit by Canova to the palace, made the sculptor recite to him all the conversation which had passed between him and Napoleon and his consort. He immediately wrote these conversations down and they were afterward given to Missirini to be used by him in his biography of Canova, and were so used. Any one who cares to obtain a new sidelight on Napoleon’s character will find a moment’s amuse- ment in looking through the memoranda of these conversations. Nothing of very great importance was said on either side, and the interest of the dia- logue lies wholly in what it shows of the tempera- ment and character of the two principal interlocutors — for the empress took very little part in the con- versation. There was, of course, no preconceived CANOVA AND HIS CONTEMPORARIES. 33 purpose in anything which Napoleon said ; chatting with Canova was for him a mere distraction of the moment. But the sculptor seems to have gone to the colloquies with the deliberate intention of accom- plishing two things: first, of persuading Napoleon not to remove any more works of art from Italy ; and, second, of persuading him to do something for the direct encouragement of the art institutions of Rome. Napoleon turned a deaf ear to his entreaties on the first point, and insisted that the Italian soil was a quarry of works of antique sculpture, and that if his Italian subjects wished to make good what had been withdrawn from the provincial centres to embellish the Capital of the Empire they had only to dig in the ground in order to find all that they required. As to the second point he consented to confer an endowment of a hundred thousand francs a year on the Academy of St. Luke ; and with this concession Canova returned to Rome in triumph. After the final downfall of Napoleon, in 1815, the various Italian governments sent special agents to Paris to identify the objects of art which had been removed from the galleries of the peninsula by order of the emperor, and Canova made at this time his third visit to Paris as special commissioner of the pope to reclaim the statues and pictures which had been taken from the Roman museums and palaces. It was while the sculptor was in the French capital, performing this delicate mission, that the poet Rogers saw him one day in the street, as he has 34 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. noted in his journal, supervising the transportation of the Transfiguration from the Louvre to some place of temporary deposit, his assistants being a squad of Austrian soldiers who were carrying the priceless panel along the avenues of Paris uncov- ered, as if it were a common piece of merchandise. Before returning to Italy, Canova was summoned to London to give an opinion as to the artistic value of the marbles from the Parthenon which Lord Elgin was then trying to sell to the British govern- ment. During his visit to the English capital the sculptor wrote a letter to his friend Quatremere de Quincy at Paris, in which he expressed his opinion about London and also about the Greek marbles — speaking of both in terms of unreserved admiration. The letter was published many years ago by Quatre- mere de Quincy in his biography of Canova, and more recently by Giuseppe Palagi of Florence who brought it out as inedite. There was a certain jus- tice in this claim, inasmuch as upon a comparison of the two printed versions it appears that Quatre- mere de Quincy, in order to make Canova’s literary effort stand a little better with the public, had de-. parted in one or two instances from the text of the original. This may be the place to observe that Canova was not an educated person in the sense in which we use that term ; and how far he was from being even tolerably conversant with the rules of grammar and orthography in his youth is made apparent by some of his letters preserved at Venice CANOVA AND HIS CONTEMPORARIES. 35 in which, as the Cavaliere Attilio Centelli observes, the errors are more numerous than the words.” What impressed Canova favorably about London was the general aspect of thrift and comfort whicli he observed there, and the cleanliness and well-to do air of the inhabitants. What he admired particu- larly in the Elgin marbles was their accurate imi- tation of nature, and especially the soft delicate modelling of the limbs which made them seem like flesh and not at all like stone. Some examination of the London newspapers of the time shows that Canova was banqueted by the Royal Academy, and received by the Prince Regent at Carlton House. He also sat for his portrait to Sir Thomas Law- rence, and the likeness which was then painted is now preserved in the Sala Municipale at Possagno. Several letters passed between the painter and the sculptor, after Canova returned to Italy, which are given in the life of Lawrence by D. E. Williams, and it appears from these letters that the Italian artist in return for the compliments shown him by Sir Thomas in England had the latter made a member of the Academy of St. Luke at Rome, and always cherished for him a warm friendship. One of the interesting works modelled by Canova after his return to Rome was the statue of Wash- ington for the state of North Carolina. Canova evidently addressed himself to this task with the intention of producing a masterpiece, for he made three bozzetti before commencing the full-sized 36 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. model. All of these bozzetti are now preserved at Possagno, and they are extremely interesting works in themselves. One of them shows the figure en- tirely nude, — a preliminary study made in order to secure perfect accuracy in the modelling of the limbs before the laying on of the draperies. The two largest of the bozzetti are about seventy-five centi- metres in height and are quite minutely finished. Either of them, if cut in marble or cast in bronze, just as they stand, would look like a finished work. The full-sized original model of the statue, from which the marble was cut, is now in the Gypsoteca at Possagno in the last division of the gallery near the colossal figure of Religion, which was carved for the Rezzonico monument. When the statue of Washington was finished in marble, it was transported to the United States and received with great honors at Raleigh, December 24, 1821. The legislature passed a special law, making it a crime to mutilate the work or disfigure it in any way. It was placed in the rotunda of the Capitol, which was regarded as the most honorable position that could be assigned to it. Unfortunately, the position was a perilous one, and the statue would have been safer in the open air. The Capitol being built of wood, like most of the American state Capi- tols at that time, caught fire on the morning of June 21, 1831, and burned to the ground. It appears from the description of the fire published in the National Intelligencer for June 28, that the principal solid- CANOVA AND HIS CONTEMPORARIES. 37 tude of every one was to save the statue of Wash- ington, but that, owing to the intense heat caused by the burning timbers, this was impossible. The day after the fire it became necessary to build a fence around the spot where the blackened fragments re- mained in order to save them from being carried away by the relic hunters. The trunk of the statue was almost totally destroyed ; the head and a portion of one arm were saved in a damaged con- dition. There was much mourning at Raleigh over the fate of the statue, and the loss appears to have been regarded as irreparable, which it was not in fact. A replica might easily have been made and might still be made from the original model at Pos- sagno, without necessitating any expense beyond the mere cost of cutting the marble. It is not generally known that Canova entertained at one time an ambitious project of erecting a co- lossal monument to Pius VII in St. Peter’s, which he was prevented from carrying out by the opposi- tion of the canons of the basilica. He proposed to use for this purpose almost all the savings of his life- time, amounting to something like two hundred thou- sand scudi or a million francs. His motive may have been simply to discharge a debt of gratitude to this particular pontiff, who had given him several com- missions, — as, for example, those for the Perseus and the Boxers now at the Vatican, — and who had conferred a title of nobility upon him, that of Mar- quis of Ischia ; but it is possible that he also had a 38 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. thought or two for himself, and imagined that so sumptuous a monument as the one which he pro- posed to erect might help to perpetuate his own fame as well as that of Pius VII. He wished to place the monument before one of the altars of the transept ; which one it was, precisely, I am unable to determine, as Antonio D’Este, from whom my in- formation on this point is derived, simply refers to it as the altar “ where are venerated the relics of SS. Processo e Martiniano.” Canova’s design for the monument is probably lost, but it appears from the description given by D’Este that it was intended to be a colossal structure which would have pro- jected into the body of the church in such a manner as to destroy the symmetry of the effect of the in- terior. Canova first applied to the pope for per- mission to erect the mausoleum, and the permission was granted. He then applied to the canons who are the governing body of the basilica, and the canons, as has been already stated, refused ; declin- ing absolutely at first on the ground that the foun- dation and walls of the church were not strong enough to support the weight of the monument; and afterward granting permission upon condition that the sculptor would build a corresponding struct- ure directly opposite so as to preserve the symmetry of the interior. Inasmuch as the one structure was to exhaust all of Canova’s savings, he was of course unable to assume the double burden ; and the monument was never executed. CANOVA AND HIS CONTEMPORARIES. 39 It was after he found it impossible to carry out this plan of erecting a monument to Pius VII that he decided to use his fortune in the building of a church at his native town of Possagno. The Temple, as it is called, is therefore the direct result of the refusal of the canons of St. Peters to allow the sculptor to execute his first project. The origi- nal plan may have been injudicious, but the second one was doubly so. I do not advise my readers to go to Possagno for the sake of seeing Canova’s Temple; and if they do go there, they will find only one thing about it which is wholly satisfying — its imposing situation. It stands high upon the hillside above the little town, entirely clear of the houses, and from the portico there is a magnificent view to south- ward, commanding the broad levels of the Venetian terra firma in the distance and the hills of Asolo, one of them picturesquely crowned with a mediaeval castle, in the foreground. But the church itself is uninteresting architecturally, sculpturally, and picto- rially. In its general lines it is nothing more than a feeble imitation of the Pantheon at Rome, with a Doric portico substituted for the Corinthian one ; and the interior is a sad disappointment to one who enters it expecting to find it coated with precious marbles, like the Roman churches, and ornamented with many works of sculpture by Canova himself. The inner walls are of plaster, merely painted to imitate marble and with no decoration except a series of valueless paintings by Demin of Venice. 40 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. There are no works of sculpture except a series of twelve small bas-reliefs in plaster upon scriptural subjects, which would not be noticed if it were not for Canova’s signature, and a bronze group of the Madonna, the Magdalen, and the dead Christ in the central niche on the right. This last work has no positive defect, but it is not one of those repre- sentations of this familiar subject which stands out from the long list of Pietas as being particularly novel, forcible, original, dramatic or truthful. Instead of modelling an intensely human Magdalen, like the one at the Villa Carlotta or at the Palazzo Bianco in Genoa, Canova modelled a Magdalen with a classic face and figure and a strongly idealized expression. As a whole the work strikes one as lacking in genuine human sentiment, and as not reaching a very high level, even when estimated by the canons by which the sculptor would wish it to have been measured — the canons of classic art. Of Canova’s sculpture one can form an idea from the photographs, but no one can know what his paintings are like without seeing them. There is one in the Temple at Possagno — an altar-piece representing the Deposition from the Cross, which is given the place of honor above the high altar in the centre of the choir. Strictly speaking, it is not so much a Deposition as an elaborate Pieta with the figure of the dead Christ extended upon a bier, and the Madonna, the Magdalen, St. John, and other figures grouped about it. The Madonna stands CANOVA AND HIS CONTEMPORARIES. 41 directly behind the bier with her hands extended, looking upward ; the Magdalen is at the head of the bier, and St. John is at the foot. These figures are not badly drawn, and the portions of them which are nude — the hands, faces, and arms — are not badly modelled. They are well modelled, in fact ; and so far as the drawing, the modelling, and the pose of the figures are concerned, the work might almost be by Camuccini. But there is a sin- gular symbolical representation of the First Per- son of the Trinity in the upper part of the picture, a head surrounded with rays, which has a suggestion about it of a marine creature, and which Camuccini would have had too good taste ever to have ventured upon ; and there are other curious figures of angels, very small, almost like elfs, floating in the middle space, which occasion wonderment rather than ad- miration. Furthermore, the color has wholly faded out from the canvas, or has penetrated into it, or has undergone some fatal chemical change ; and the whole great expanse has fallen into a muddy amber tone, in which all the original variety of hue has been entirely lost. On persistent examination one arrives at a conviction that the gown of St. John was once red, and the draperies of the Magdalen still preserve certain traces of pink ; but everything else is either black or parchment color or brown. From the floor of the church even the forms are made out with difficulty with the naked eye, and an opera glass is almost necessary to extract any- thing definite from the picture. 42 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. This particular work is the best of Canova’s paint- ings, and the great sculptor would have shown good judgment if he had destroyed in his lifetime all the other works of his brush which are now preserved in the house in which he once lived at Possagno and in the Raccolta Canova in the Museo Civico at Venice. In the latter collection there is a version in paint of the Cupid and Psyche, which he modelled with so much grace and skill in marble for Count Sommariva ; and the painting is as weak and feeble as anything could well be. The pictures in the Canova house at Possagno — there is unfortunately a room full of them — are for the most part groups of nudes, whole figures and half lengths. They are invariably in three colors, — flesh tints, red draperies, and dull olive green backgrounds. The nudes are not well modelled, and the coloring is bad. The faces, moreover, are hopelessly insipid, reproducing the type of the Venuses, the Hebes, and the Graces, with a descent into even greater depths of intellect- ual vacancy. In another room, adjoining the one in which the compositions of life-sized figures are exhibited, there are other compositions of small figures on a black background, composed after the manner of the decorative figures in Pompeian frescos, which are not so hopelessly commonplace, and which show a certain dexterity in managing the pencil and a certain cleverness in reproducing the spirit of a lost style of decoration. It is no harm to Canova’s reputation that these works should be left in ex- CANOVA AND HIS CONTEMPORARIES. 43 istence ; they show a dilettante fondness for an art which was not his own, exercised with a certain amount of taste and skill, considering that his voca- tion was sculpture and not painting; but all his other canvases might much better have been wiped out of existence altogether. During the last three years of his life (1819-1822) the subject of the Temple at Possagno was very much upon Canova’s mind. He made a journey to the little town in June, 1819, and at that time the prima pietra — the first stone — was formally laid. He returned to Possagno in the summer of 1820 to assure himself that the work was making satisfac- tory progress, and he went there again in the sum- mer of 1821 ; and finally he made his third and last visit in 1822, arriving there during the latter part of August or the first of September. Canova was suf- fering at the time of his final departure from Rome from a malady, by which he had been troubled for some time, and which is supposed to have been caused by the pressure against his body of a boring tool which he was in the habit of using when at work in his studio. His indisposition continued during all the time that he remained at Possagno, but did not become so serious as to prevent him from setting out on the return journey to Rome. At Venice, however, where he paused on his way, and where he accepted entertainment in the house of his friend Antonio Francesconi, his illness became critical, and, after a few days, ended fatally. The 44 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. house where he breathed his last, and which is an extremely modest one in the little Campo S. Gallo, reached by a narrow couloir passing out from the Piazza S. Marco under the Procuratie Vecchie, is now marked by a tablet stating that Antonius Canova, Sculturae Princeps, died there on the thir- teenth of October, 1822. Canova was buried at Possagno in the Temple which he had constructed and his body lies beneath a marble sarcophagus which occupies the niche di- rectly opposite the Pieta, and which is artistically the finest thing in the church. His half-brother, the Bishop of Mindo, is buried in the same tomb, the coat of arms of one being engraved upon one end of the base and the coat of arms of the other upon the opposite end. The armorial bearings of Canova — a serpent and a lyre — ^are those which he selected when he was made Marquis of Ischia, and they are an allusion to the statues of Eurydice and Orpheus, upon which his reputation as an artist was based. The custodian of the church informs visitors that the marble sarcophagus — which, with its delicate carving and its elegant classic lines, is by far the most beautiful thing in the church — was modelled by Canova for some patron who had asked for a simple monument of this character; and that the patron having for some reason failed to accept the work, it was thought best to utilize it to mark the sculptor’s own place of burial. As a matter of fact, however, the sarcophagus was not designed CANOVA AND HIS CONTEMPORARIES. 45 by Canova, but by Luigi Poletti, or so I am con- strained to believe from having found the design among the drawings of Poletti preserved in the Biblioteca Poletti at Modena. Poletti was the architect of the modern basilica of S. Paolo fuori le Mura, and the most distinguished Roman builder of the century. He was patronized by Canova when he first came to Rome, and was employed by the latter, as I find stated in the biography of Poletti by the Marquis Campori, to design the architectural portion of some of the sepulchral monuments which Canova had been commissioned to model. Nothing is said by Campori as to this particular monument, but any one who will take the pains to examine roll 12 of the Poletti drawings at Modena will be convinced that the authorship of the monument should be attributed to him. The original design is marked “ Monumento Berio,” and I conjecture that it was prepared by Poletti at Canova’s suggestion for some client of that name who afterward for some reason refused to accept it. It is entirely consistent with this theory that the beautiful work should have been found undisposed of in Canova s studio after his death, and subse- quently utilized for its present purpose. After the decease of the great sculptor, the idea was brought forward by Count Cicognara and others, of erecting a monument to him at Venice by public subscription ; and subscriptions were, in fact, taken up all over Europe for the purpose, the 46 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. Emperor of Austria and various other foreign princes helping to swell the sum which was raised. Count Cicognara also advanced the idea that the monument should be the duplicate of that which Canova had designed for Titian, and which was never executed ; and the common impression is that this design was in fact used. There is even an inscription on the pedestal of the monument, stating that it was modelled by Canova for Titian, in 1794, and as every writer who has alluded to the subject has treated the statement as true, and inasmuch as the Venetian guide books all repeat the same thing, it is natural that it should be uni- versally accepted. I am convinced, however, that the statement is a false one, and that after the de- sign had undergone very essential modifications by Canova’s pupils, who banded themselves together to execute it, the present inscription was put on the pedestal to satisfy the public, inasmuch as the public had made their subscriptions with the un- derstanding that the Titian design was to be used. The inscription says that Canova modelled the monument in 1794. But Antonio D’Este in his exhaustive catalogue of Canova’s works, in which he brings together everything which Canova ever did in clay, marble, or paint, makes no mention of it. There is no such model- to be found in the Canova Collection at the Museo Civico at Venice, and there is no such model in the Gypsoteca at Possagno. The only project or sketch of a Titian CAN OVA MONUMENT FROM TIIK MAR15LES I!Y RINALDI. FARRIS, AND OTHERS, IN ITIE CHFRCII OF 'HIE ERARI, VENICE ■I - ’;v CANOVA AND HIS CONTEMPORARIES. 47 monument by Canova, which is to be seen in either of these two collections, is the simple drawing in the Canova room at the Museo Civico at Venice; and any one who will cast a glance at this drawing will see that it resembles the monument at the Frari only in the general conception. In both of them there is a pyramid for a background, but there the resemblance stops. The project of Canova shows a veiled figure of a woman entering the tomb from the left, preceded and followed by fig- ures of children. On the steps, still at the left, are two other figures of women, and at the right there is a reclining Genius with an inverted torch. In the monument, as it now stands, the reclining Genius is carried from the right to the left, and the pose is changed ; the figure of the woman entering the tomb approaches it from the right ; she is un- accompanied by the cherubs, and she is followed, still on the right, by a group of four figures, two adult figures of women and two of children. And, beside this, the lion of St. Mark is added, which does not appear in the drawing at all, and which is the most essential, to the actual effect, of any one figure in the whole composition. Underneath each of the different groups which make up the ensem- ble, is carved the name of the sculptor who was the author of it. Before the foremost of the figures of the two women, on the steps at the right, are in- scribed the words “A. Zandomeneghi fecit”; under the figure of the woman bearing the urn, “ Opus 48 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. Bartolommeo Ferrari ” ; beneath the lion, “ Rinaldi Opus”; and beneath the Genius with the inverted torch, “ Cav. G. Fabris inv. e scol. questo Genio.” The conclusion to which I have been led by such examination of the subject as I have been able to make, is that too much honor has been done to Canova, and too little to those who came after him, and that the credit for designing this sumptu- ous monument at the Frari should be given not to him but to his pupils. Upon a general survey of Canova ’s work, made conscientiously and carefully, one can hardly fail to be convinced that the present generation has done him an injustice, and that the reason why an inadequate valuation has been placed upon his powers is largely because that portion of his work which is least calculated to appeal to the taste of the present generation is precisely the por- tion which is most in sight. I do not wish to be understood as saying that the Graces, the Venuses, and the Hebes are bad; the very fact that they were multiplied so largely, and that replicas and copies are so often found in the collection of the connoisseurs of two generations back, shows that they appealed in their day not only to the general but to the refined taste. But since that day the normal reaction has taken place, and they have effectually lost their power to please. While this situation of affairs has come about, and while the originals and the copies of the works which we now CANOVA AND HIS CONTEMPORARIES. 49 dislike are to be seen everywhere, the other com- positions by the same artist in a severer and more intellectual style, are largely lost sight of. There is the beautiful statue of Orpheus, in the posses- sion of Count Falier, buried away from sight in his villa at Asolo, wholly unknown to the public or to the critics, and yet one of the most charming works of art which has ever been produced in Italy. There is the original but little observed group of Daedalus and Icarus in the Academy at Venice. And at Rome there are the fine portrait-statues of Popes Clement XIII and XIV and Pope Pius VI, examples of faithful, dignified, and sympathetic portraiture, which it would be difficult to surpass. To these may be added as still fine specimens of work, although not up to the author’s very highest level, the portrait-statue of the Empress Marie Louise at Parma and of King Ferdinand in the National Museum at Naples. When we consider how willing the public are to deify a modern sculp- tor for a single production, just because it chances to strike a passing fancy, or to successfully embody the elements of the style which is for the moment in favor, I think we should hesitate before dismiss- ing from our attention as of no value the creations of an artist who could imagine and realize the series of noble works which I have mentioned in this paragraph. Here, in conclusion, a word should be said of Canova’s personality which was in every respect 50 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. admirable. He was one of the most amiable and kindly of men. Even at the beginning of his career, when his style was novel and his work harshly criti- cised, he seems to have formed no enmities and entertained no harsh feelings against those who differed from him in opinion. Later in life he stood so absolutely alone and solitary on his pin- nacle, he was so entirely without competitors, his primacy in his art was so universally recognized, not only in Italy, but abroad, that in the nature of the case envies and jealousies could have had little place in his thoughts. He had an extraordinary sympathy for young men, especially for young artists, and took them under his protection without regard to nationality. There are some interesting pages in the life of the English sculptor John Gib- son, by Lady Eastlake, which show how ready he was, not merely to open his heart, but also his purse, to aid a young artist who was struggling to make his way in the world. Canova seems to have had no power to cherish animosities, and when a young Italian pupil of Thorvaldsen undertook to assail him by charging him with partiality in the distribu- tion of his favors, Canova instead of ignoring the young man made special exertions to placate the violent disciple of his rival and endeavored to close up the breach between them by every means in his power. The sculptor of Possagno seems from the first to have loved his enemies, and to have prayed for those who despitefully used him and persecuted CANOVA AND HIS CONTEMPORARIES. 51 him; and I find very few instances in all the multi- tude of references made to him by contemporary writers, even where they differed from him funda- mentally in questions of his art, where he is spoken of otherwise than in terms of admiration and re- spect. So completely did Canova engross the public attention at Rome, while he was producing his bril- liant series of works, that his contemporaries estab- lished in the same city received comparatively little notice. There was only one man who rose to a position of rivalry, Thorvaldsen, and he does not come within the field which I have assigned to myself in this book. At Florence, during the classic period, very little that was of importance in sculp- ture was produced. We have the names of three professors at the Academy: Innocenzio Spinazzi, who was summoned from Rome to take the di- rection of the school of sculpture prior to 1798; Francesco Carradori (1747-1824) of Pistoia, who succeeded him in the year just named; and Stefano Ricci, his pupil (born at Florence in 1765), who became in turn professor and held the chair until his death in 1837. Spinazzi was the author of the monument to Machiavelli in S. Croce and of the statue of Faith in S. Maria Maddalena de’ Pazzi at Florence, the latter regarded as his masterpiece. Ricci designed the monument to Dante now in S. Croce, and we know from this one work that his style was that of Canova, with the infusion of an 52 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. element of rigidity which the work of Canova did not possess. At Milan the sculptors of the classic movement enjoyed more patronage than at Florence, and made more of an impression upon their time. Camillo Pacetti (1758-1826), who was summoned from Rome in 1806 to take the direction of the school of sculpture at the Brera, modelled several works which are still in sight, beside (as it is said) carving some statues for the decoration of the cathedral which are virtually lost in the mass of plastic works nestling in the niches and crowning the pinnacles of that vast fabric. The reliefs which he designed for the Arch of Peace can still be iden- tified, — two figures with trumpets in the spandrels of the great arch on the side toward the Castello, a Minerva and a Mars on the pedestals of the col- ums flanking the central arch on the same fa9ade, and a long and narrow relief typifying the Capitu- lation of Dresden above the lower arch on the left as one faces the structure. The original models of the Minerva and Mars are now in the Villa Carlotta on Lake Como, and can be seen to better advantage there than at Milan. I regret to say, however, that they are of little consequence as works of art and hardly repay examination. There is a kneeling figure of S. Marcellina in the Cappella delle Dame at the church of S. Am- brogio at Milan, which is said by the sacristan to be by Pacetti, and very likely may be by him. CANOVA AND HIS CONTEMPORARIES. 53 Upon examining it I was unable to find any signa- ture ; but the chapel — one of the works of Cag- nola — was constructed precisely at the time when Pacetti was enjoying a high reputation at Milan, and not unnaturally the work in sculpture, which was to constitute its principal ornament, would have been assigned to him to execute. The figure does not look like the production of a classic sculptor, however, but more like that of an artist, who took his inspiration from the work of the sculptors of the early renaissance. In room XII of the picture gallery of the Brera at Milan there is a marble bust of the painter Andrea Appiani, signed by Pacetti, and dated 1820. Appiani, who was the leading Milanese painter at the time when Pacetti came to Milan in 1806, was a vigorous character, and his resolute and ener- getic temperament is well indicated in this mar- ble portrait. In a niche near the middle of the north side of the upper portico surrounding the courtyard of the Brera, there is another fine bust by Pacetti, commemorating the painter Giuseppe Bossi, who was a contemporary both of Pacetti and Appiani. Bossi is represented with a sensi- tive rather than a strong face, and is looking down with a tranquil expression. The style of the work is noble and dignified. The portico of the Brera also furnishes shelter to two portraits of Pacetti himself : one of them a bust on a bracket project- ing from the wall on the west side of the upper 54 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. story, and the other a full-length statue on the landing of the stairs. This last is by Giuseppe Bayer, who may be regarded as an artistic grand- child of Pacetti, since he was a pupil of Pacetti’s pupil, Cacciatori. It represents the older sculptor attired in the costume which he was probably in the habit of wearing — a coat of the style in vogue during the first years of the century, with knee breeches, silk stockings, low shoes with large buckles, and a ruffied shirt. He is holding in his hand a small Egyptian figure and looking at it attentively. The head is uncovered, and the face is noble, manly, intelligent, and vigorous. The work, as a whole, does credit to the artist who modelled it; and, if a faithful portrait, does credit also to the man whom it represents. No man could have such a face and be a person of medi- ocre intelligence or ordinary ability. Pacetti was succeeded in the chair of sculpture at the Brera, in 1826, by Pompeo Marchesi, who during the first part of his career was probably the most petted and admired, and during the last part of his career the most maltreated and abused of all the sculptors of his time. Marchesi was born at Saltrio, in the province of Como, March 7, 1 789, and his first works are in the Como cathedral, a rather clumsily modelled series of fourteen figures of disciples and apostles, occupying the niches of the choir and part of those of the transept. There is also a somewhat commonplace statue of Volta CANOVA AND HIS CONTEMPORARIES. 55 in a public square at Como, executed by the same sculptor later in life. Marchesi had a larger share in the plastic decora- tion of the Arch of Peace at Milan than any other one artist. All of the reliefs above the lower arch on the right (as one faces it) on the side toward the Castello are by him, and he also modelled the large relief on the southern end, the two river gods on the summit of the westerly entablature sym- bolizing the Adige and the Tagliamento, and the figures in the spandrels of the great arch on the same side. The relief on the southerly end, com- memorating the victory of Leipsic and the drown- ing of Prince Poniatowski in the river Elster, is very clever in composition, and one of its author’s best works. There is an over rigid relief, designed by the same artist, for the same monument, now in one of the corridors of the Brera, near the entrance to the Archaeological Museum, representing the coronation of Napoleon with the iron crown of Lombardy, which was rejected after 1814, because inconsistent with the dignity of the Austrian emperor, under whose patronage the arch was completed. Marchesi was, I believe, the most prolific Milanese sculptor of the century, and it would be impossible to enumerate all his works. Some of them were sent to Germany, as, for example, the statue of Goethe now in the Town Library at Lrankfort-on- the-Main. Two marble groups, one of them a 56 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. Pieta introducing seven figures, and the other a composition of four figures representing S. Carlo Borromeo administering the communion to a youth, are now in the modern church of S. Carlo at Milan: neither of them agreeable productions, and the latter particularly offensive because of its sanctimo- nious tone. A figure of Christ as a youth, in an oratory in the Tosio Gallery (formerly the Tosio Palace) at Brescia, is objectionable because of the weak and effeminate character of the face. The monument to Emanuele Filiberto of Savoy, in the chapel of the Sudario connected with the cathedral and with the Royal Palace at Turin, is a more pleas- ing production and wholly free from the mawkish sentimentality which Marchesi seemed to regard as the proper tone for an ecclesiastical work of art. I also find much to admire in the bas-relief, repre- senting the Death of St. Joseph, which ornaments the altar dedicated to that saint in the cathedral at Como, said to be the sculptor’s last work. Marchesi was retired from his position as professor at the Milan Academy in 1853, but did not die until Feb- ruary 6, 1858. He is commemorated by a bust in the upper portico of the Brera.^ 1 Among the other sculptors who collaborated with Marchesi in the decoration of the Arch of Peace were two men of exceptional ability, — Abbondio Sangiorgio of Milan (b. July i6, 1798, d. November 2, 1879) and Gaetano Monti of Ravenna (b. March 13, 1776, d. May, 1847). Sangiorgio, who was a pupil of Pacetti, designed the bronze chariot with the six spirited horses which crowns the summit of the arch, and was also the author of the bronze groups of Castor and Pollux and their CANOVA AND HIS CONTEMPORARIES. 57 Rinaldo Rinaldi and Giuseppe Fabris, who be- long territorially to the Venetian group, found the example and the attraction of Canova too strong for them and passed almost their whole lives in Rome. Both of them were born in Padua — Rinaldi in 1793, and Fabris in 1800. The older artist studied first in his native city, afterward at Venice; and upon re- ceiving a pension in 1812 removed to Rome, where he became the pupil of Canova and occupied, after the latter’s death, the studio in the Via di S. Gia- como in Augusta, where almost all the works of the great sculptor were produced. During the exciting days of 1848 and 1849 Rinaldi became interested in the liberal cause, and upon the restoration of the papal government was for a time imprisoned ; and after his release was held in so much suspicion that a decree was issued forbidding him to leave his home after Ave Maria — a decree which was maintained in force for five years. Rinaldi’s works are very much scattered. The winged lion, which he carved for the Canova ceno- taph in the church of the Frari at Venice, must have been one of his earliest important productions. horses on either side of the entrance to the Royal Palace at Turin. Gaetano Monti modelled the large relief on the westerly side of the Arch of Peace, representing the Peace of Paris, and the important panel underneath the principal arch, representing the meeting of the allied sovereigns. He is also the author of the admirable sepulchral monu- ment in the cathedral at Brescia, which was erected in memory of Bishop Nava and which is the finest work of art in the church. A son of Gaetano Monti, born at Milan in i8i8 and whose Christian name was Raffaele, emigrated to England about 1850 and made his home there. 58 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. Three other works by the same sculptor, a figure of Adonis, a group of Achilles and Chiron, and a bust of Titian, are in the vestibule of the Venice Academy. Another work which is important in view of the place which it occupies is the figure of St. Stephen in the chapel dedicated to that saint in the basilica of St. Paul’s at Rome. The saint is standing in a conventional attitude, resting his weight on his left foot with his right knee slightly bent forward. His right hand is extended, and in his left hand he holds a palm branch. The face is turned upward, and the expression is rather vacant. The aureole of gilt bronze which has been added to the figure may increase its devotional significance, but does not improve it from an aesthetic point of view. Among the works of Ri- naldi which have found their way abroad is a group of the Wise and Foolish Virgins, now in the posses- sion of Mrs. Alpheus Hardy of Boston. The figures are nearly or quite life-size, the foolish virgin stand- ing at the right, and the wise virgin kneeling at the left and shielding the flame of her lamp with her draperies. The group is gracefully composed and has a certain Raphaelesque quality about it, due in part no doubt to the type of the faces and the ar- rangement of the draperies, which in a general way resemble those made familiar by the paintings of the masters of the early sixteenth century. This work alone, if there were no others carved in a simi- lar style, would suifice to show that Rinaldi advanced CANOVA AND HIS CONTEMPORARIES. 59 with the advancing taste of his day, and gave up the attempt to perpetuate the style of Canova after he saw that it had become unpopular. The other Paduan sculptor above referred to, Giuseppe Fabris, has left two works at Rome which are fairly well known : the monument to Leo XII at St. Peter’s, and the Tasso monument in the church of S. Onofrio. The papal monument is less pretentious than many of those in the basilica, consisting of a single portrait figure in a niche, with smaller accessory figures in high relief above it. The statue of Tasso is intended to represent him at the moment of beholding the Madonna in a vision, but it can hardly be said that the sculptor has suc- ceeded very well in imprinting upon his features the expression which a man of Tasso’s tempera- ment would have been likely to assume under such circumstances. I find much more that is satisfying in the figure which Fabris contributed to the Canova cenotaph in the church of the Frari at Venice, — the Genius with the inverted torch reclining upon the steps at the left of the entrance of the tomb. The general type of the Genius is not original, it had already been created by Canova ; but the pose was invented by Fabris, and differs materially from that of the Genius in the drawing of the Titian monument. The work is sie;ned with the sculptor’s name underneath, as are all the other fio;ures on the monument. Fabris must have ex- celled as a modeller of portrait-busts, to judge from 6o HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. a fine marble likeness of the painter Vincenzo Camuccini now in the Palazzo Camuccini at Canta- lupo — a noble and dignified work, showing a refined and elevated conception of the subject. CHAPTER II. LORENZO BARTOLINI, THE LEADER OF THE REAC- TION AGAINST CLASSICISM. The reaction against the principles of the classic school in Italy and in northern Europe. — Early life of Bartolini. — He becomes a pupil in the atelier David at Paris. — An intimacy is formed between Bartolini and Ingres. — Works produced by Bartolini at Paris. — Circumstances leading to his taking up his residence at Car- rara. — Works produced at Carrara. — Further facts as to his life at Carrara. — Elba and Florence. — Renewal of the intimacy be- tween Bartolini and Ingres. — Bartolini’s industry and popularity as a modeller of portrait-busts. — The “Carith educatrice,” an epoch- making work. — Other works of his maturity. — The statue and group in the Poldi-Pezzoli collection at Milan. — The Demidoff monu- ment at Florence. — The monument to the Countess Zamoyska. — The “ Inconsolabile ” in the Camposanto at Pisa. — Statue of Machiavelli. — L’Ammostatore.” — Bartolini as a professor in the Florence Academy. — The incident of the hunchback. ■ — The sculptor’s last years. — The collection of models at the convent of S. Salvi. The art-ideas which Canova had advocated by precept and example all through his life continued to prevail to a certain extent in Italy for a numher of years after his death, and the great reaction against the principles of the classic school, which in the necessary course of things had to come, was somewhat slower in making itself generally felt there than it was in the leading art-producing coun- 6i 62 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. tries north of the Alps. Initiated by Rauch and his contemporaries in Germany about 1815 (the date of the arrival in Berlin of the recumbent statue of Queen Louise), and by David d’Angers in France about 1817 (the date of the successful exhibition at die Salon of the statue of Conde), the reaction gained ground rapidly, and as early as 1830 had forced the classic school almost entirely into the background. But although the reaction was slower in making a wide-reaching impression in Italy, I would not wish to assert that the new principle was itself tardy in making its appearance. The new idea was brought forward in Italy almost as early as it was anywhere else ; and it was only the intrenched con- servatism of its opponents which kept it so long from effecting a general revolution and changing the whole character of the product of the studios. The initial idea of the new movement was intro- duced into Italy by Lorenzo Bartolini, who passed the greater part of his life at Florence, and who lived there continuously from 1814 to 1850. Bar- tolini was as different from Canova as one man can be from another. Canova was docile, tractable, and pliable. Bartolini’s qualities were just the re- verse of these. He had none of the qualities which make a good pupil, disciple, or imitator. To set up before him an example to copy was equivalent to telling him what he was to avoid. If we look into his character for the important positive element which was associated with these negative elements, LORENZO BARTOLINI. 63 we shall find it to be a very genuine and profound admiration for the human figure in physical and spiritual perfection. These two qualities together will account for almost his whole career. The antique was set up for him to copy, as the taste of the day prescribed; and he consequently disliked it. In place of it he chose as his guide the model which he really loved, the actual human form, and devoted his life to defending and advancing the cause of moderate naturalism as against the uncom- promising classicism advocated by his predecessors and by many of his contemporaries. Although, as I have said, he resided for the greater part of his life at Florence, he was not born in that city, but at Savignano in the so-called Popolo di S. Andrea in the diocese of Prato, on the seventh day of January, 1777. His father’s Christian name was Liborio, and his mother’s maiden name was Maria Maddalena Magli. Liborio Bartolini was a locksmith in comfortable circumstances. His house, which was a much more substantial home than the majority of artisans enjoyed at that time, is still standing ; and beside owning this house the elder Bartolini was the possessor of several pieces of land, the title to which still remains in his family. Part of the childhood of the sculptor was passed in his home in the Popolo di S. Andrea and part at Montepiano, a small village in the Apennines ; the dwelling which the Bartolini occupied in the latter place being now marked by a tablet, recording the 64 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. fact that the great sculptor at one time lived within its walls. While Lorenzo was still a child, the family removed to Florence ; and the father seems to have resided there continuously from that time down to his death. We know that Bartolini was not always insensi- ble to the charm of classic art, because in his boy- hood he once brought himself into disgrace with one of his employers by his pertinacious determina- tion to make some tracings from a volume of illus- trations of the tragedies of ^schylus by Flaxman which his master possessed. At the time when this incident occurred, he was apprenticed to an ala- baster-worker at Volterra, named Cornell, who may possibly have used the Flaxman drawings for suggestions in his work and who at any rate set a high value upon them, and was not disposed to allow his assistant to copy them. The young artist was, however, so infatuated with the pictures that he stole into the room in which the volume was kept, and when all the family were asleep set to work to make tracings from the choice designs. Some- thing, however, led his master to suspect that his injunctions had been disregarded, and that his ap- prentice was tasting the forbidden fruit, and rising from his bed he detected the youth in the act of disobedience. As a consequence Bartolini lost his place and was obliged to leave Volterra; but it is probable that the pleasure of having carried his point and obtained access to the drawings compen- LORENZO BARTOLINL 6$ sated him for the penalty which he suffered as the result of his misdoing. Before going to Volterra he had worked at Flor- ence as fattorino for a glazier and had afterward been for a while in the employ of an English tailor by the name of Robinson. He began to learn the trade of alabaster-working at Florence with a cer- tain Boccini, and had probably acquired a fair know- ledge of the processes of the art before he accepted the place with Corneil. He also pursued some studies in the Academy of Fine Arts by advice of Boccini, taking lessons in drawing from Professor Piattoli, and in sculpture from Professor Insom. One of his earliest works in marble, a small figure of a satyr, was executed under the direction of Angelo Corsi ; some earlier experiments in sculpt- ure had been made while he was working at his trade as an alabaster carver. After leaving Corneil, and returning to Florence, he tried his hand, for the first time, at modelling from life, persuading his younger brother to pose for him. It would hardly be worth while to gather up these minor details if it were not for the fact that Bartolini’s career is so uniquely important as to make every fragment of information relating to his early training of some interest. Becoming dissatisfied, when he was about twenty years old, with the opportunities for perfecting him- self in his art wFich Florence afforded, the young sculptor determined to make his way if possible to 66 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. Paris and place himself in touch with the most advanced art-ideas of his time. In order to accom- plish this purpose he entered the employ of a re- turning French general as valet and travelled with him as far as Genoa, making the rest of his way to the French capital alone. During the latter part of his journey he endured many hardships and privations, and was at the end of his resources when he finally reached his destination. He succeeded, however, in finding employment as an alabaster- worker, and was fortunately able to earn his living in that way while perfecting himself in his art. Bartolini’s studies at Paris were pursued largely, if not entirely, in the atelier of Louis David ; and I may add that he was not the only young sculptor who worked in the studio of that eminent painter, inasmuch as David d’Angers became afterward one of his pupils. It is stated by M. Delaborde — though upon what authority does not appear — that David rather encouraged Bartolini’s eccentrici- ties, and made no effort to compel him to adopt the same principles in art which the master him- self practised. I should be much more ready to believe, a priori, that David did make an effort to impress his ideas upon the young Italian, and that the courage and self-reliance of the latter and his determination to find a new and original way for himself led him to reject what he was taught and strike out upon an independent course. LORENZO BARTOLINI. 6; Among the important incidents of Bartolini s life at Paris was the formation of a friendship with the painter Ingres. Ingres was also a pupil of David at this time, and the two young men were daily brought together in the studio of that master. They soon discovered that they had the same purposes, the same aims, the same tastes ; and they became inti- mate with an intimacy based on the most solid of foundations, and which continued unbroken to the end of their lives. A memorial of this early friend- ship exists in the shape of a portrait of Bartolini, painted by Ingres in 1805, in which the young Florentine is represented as holding in his hand a fragment of antique sculpture, possibly the head of some pagan divinity, and looking away from it, for the moment, as if the voice of some speaker had just attracted his attention. The figure is in profile, but the face is turned far enoimh around to brino- O O all the features completely into view. Bartolini wears a light-colored cloak, which falls from his shoulder in graceful folds. Above the cloak the standing collar of some under-garment is visible at the back of the neck, and beneath his chin there is a broad collar of soft white linen. The features are firmly and vigorously modelled, and indicate the rugged physical health which he enjoyed in early manhood. The face is smooth-shaven, and the hair is brouQ^ht forward from the back in loose masses and piled upon the top of the head above the ears. At the top of the canvas Ingres inscribed the words 68 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. “ Laurentius Bartholini, Sculptor Florentinus, Anno XIII." Two original works were executed by Bartolini before he left Paris: one of them a bust of Bonaparte, and the other a bas-relief of the Battle of Austerlitz for the Vendome column — this last being referred to by M. Delaborde as “un des moins academiques et des plus energiquement composes du monument." It is placed, however, at such a height that its de- tails are lost, and its merits and defects can only be judged of from the engraving which is contained in the work by Baltard on La Colonne de la Grande Armee, published at Paris in i8io. The bust of Bonaparte is said to have been intended to be placed above the entrance to the Institute ; but what actually became of it I have been unable to learn. When Bartolini had nearly completed his studies at Paris, the sister of Napoleon, Elisa Bacciocchi, was given a principality in Italy and established her court at Lucca. The province of Carrara, which had belonged for years to the territorial possessions of the dukes of Modena, was annexed in 1806 to the newly created government at Lucca; and the Princess Elisa, anxious to do something for the encouragement of the fine arts, proceeded to re- organize the Academy at Carrara and to infuse into its system of instruction some new ideas by the ap- pointment of some new professors. The Parisian authorities who were requested to recommend a LORENZO BARTOLINI. 69 proper person to take charge of the school of sculpt- ure presented the name of Bartolini; and, abandon- ing his chances of winning renown at Paris, the young sculptor decided to accept the position which was then offered him. Some glimpses of his life at Carrara are furnished by the biography of Pietro Tenerani, an artist who subsequently rose to a position of great eminence and who was then a pupil in the Carrara Academy, and by the memoirs of Christian Daniel Rauch, the German sculptor, well known as the author of many important works, who was, at this very time, engaged in carving at Carrara his recumbent statue of Queen Louise of Prussia, now in the mausoleum at Char- lottenburg. Bartolini lived for a while in the same room with Rauch’s intimate friend Tieck, whom he had known in the atelier David in Paris ; but the lively temperament of the two men finally resulted in a decided difference of opinion on matters where it was essential that they should agree if they were to live together in harmony, and the partnership of residence was dissolved. Bartolini, who was a clever musician, furnished at one time entertainment for the whole small social world of Carrara by organ- izing a performance of Mozarts opera of Don Giovanni and directing the orchestra himself. It appears that his lively and excitable temperament occasionally caused certain temporary ruptures, though not of a very serious nature, between him- self and the other professors in the Academy; and 70 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. one of them is described by the biographer of Tene- rani, who was still a pupil in the Academy at the time when the incident occurred. Bartolini and the other professors differed upon the question of awarding the prize in a sculptural competition be- tween the students in the school, and, putting the merit of the pupils’ work aside, Bartolini urged that the matter should be decided according to the re- sult of a single combat between himself and the professor who led the opposition. The duel was to be fought with no more deadly weapons than the modelling tools of the sculptor ; in short, it was to be a second competition between the judges instead of the pupils, and the decision was to be rendered by some authority which would command high re- spect, either the Academy of Fine Arts at Rome or at Paris. Unfortunately, the duel never took place, and we have only the record of Bartolini’s eager desire to cross swords with his adversary in this way as an illustration of his excitable tempera- ment and his conviction of the soundness of his views. While Rauch was executing commissions for the dynasty of Prussia, which had suffered so much at the hands of Napoleon, Bartolini was almost ex- clusively occupied, so far as he found occupation at all, in modelling works for the French emperor and the members of his family. The most important of these works — a group of Napoleon, Marie Louise, and the King of Rome — has unfortunately perished. LORENZO BARTOLINI. 71 having been destroyed by the mob which broke into the sculptor’s studio at Carrara after the down- fall of the emperor in 1814, destroying everything which suggested the former greatness of the fallen sovereign. By some accident there escaped the notice of the excited rabble at this time a standing figure of Napoleon, represented as a civil ruler with- out a sword or any other military accessory, which it was intended at that time to erect in one of the public squares of the city of Leghorn. This work remained for years undisposed of among the objects collected in the sculptor’s studio at Florence ; but upon the restoration of the Bonapartes in 1851 it was finally purchased by the French government and erected at Bastia on the island of Corsica. The piazza where the statue stands is on the seashore, and the figure was placed with the face turned toward Elba. In the collection of pamphlets relat- ing to Bartolini, now in the possession of his de- scendants, there is one which describes at length the inauguration ceremonies at Bastia, June 15, 1854, and which makes it appear that the unveiling of this statue was one of the greatest events in the history of the town and regarded as a vindication, in a certain sense, of the great Corsican in the eyes of his own immediate people. The mayor in his address on that occasion laid particular emphasis on the sculptor’s idea of representing the emperor without a sword. “ Chose singuliere en effet,” he said, “ Bartolini n’a pas donne une epee a I’Em- 72 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. pereur qui etait alors au faite de la gloire mili- taire. Bartolini a refuse de voir en Napoleon le guerrier couronne par la victoire. Son heros est un legislateur arme d’un sceptre pacifique, c’est le fondateur d’un empire nouveau et le chef d’une dynastie qui commence.” When compelled to seek safety in flight at the time that Carrara fell under the dominion of the mob in 1814, Bartolini asserts in an autobiographic fragment that he went to the island of Elba. “ II destino,” he wrote, “ mi balzb all’ isola d’Elba.” The statement remains unsupported by anything to be found in any other authority — of the few and scanty ones which exist — relative to his life. The sculptor’s descendants know nothing more about this adventure, which must have been crowded full of singular interest, than is contained in these eight words. Bartolini was perhaps led to make this ex- pedition by some motive of personal loyalty: The desire to collect any sums of money which might have been due to him from the Bonaparte family could hardly have tempted him to follow the great chief into exile ; and any supposition of that nature is virtually ruled out by the fact that to concerns of pocket he was always supremely indifferent. The only precise information which I have been able to obtain as to his life between 1814 and 1824 consists of a few scattered references to him in the diary of Miss Berry, in the life of Ingres, and in Bartolini’s own letters to his friend. Signor Bene- LORENZO BARTOLINI. 73 ricetti Talenti. In one of the last he says that his next stage, after Elba, was “his own cradle,” from which we are to infer that he settled at once in Florence after his pilgrimage to the emperors place of exile. His expectations of being warmly re- ceived by his fellow-Tuscans were disappointed. “ I hoped to find consolation in giving additional breadth to the scanty knowledge which then existed there as to the difficult art of sculpture,” he wrote ; “but what was the destiny which awaited me! My honest intentions were maligned, even my moral character was assailed ! In this state of things I found consolation in living a solitary existence and in devoting myself diligently to my work. My im- perfect productions when brought to the notice of the distinguished foreigners, who passed through Florence, were favorably looked upon by them ; and, assisted by their patronage, I was finally en- abled to undertake the group of Charity instruct- ing the Young against which my enemies levelled their most venomous attacks, but which will some day be regarded as a scultura politica, containing the very essence of the true gospel.” This is the general review which Bartolini him- self gives of the ten years which immediately fol- lowed the definite establishment of his residence in Florence, when he was struggling to win the recog- nition which he felt he deserved from his fellow- Italians. The first reference to Bartolini in the diary of Miss Berry — who was probably more 74 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. familiar with the Italian art of this period than any other Englishwoman of her time — appears under date of October 2, 1817, when she made her first visit to his studio and was struck with the remark- able merit of his portraits in marble. She also noticed with approval a statue of a Nymph for which Bartolini had not been able to find a pur- chaser, and speaks in terms of admiration of a group of Venus and Cupid which she also found in his studio. Miss Berry must have secured for Bar- tolini some English commissions, for in a letter to the Duke of Devonshire, written from Florence a few years later (October, 1820), she informs the duke that Bartolini has almost finished the marble vase which he had ordered of him, and also renews her commendations of the statue of the Nymph, beside referring to a copy of a Venus in marble which she describes as being of exceptional merit. The par- ticular Duke of Devonshire with whom Miss Berry was in correspondence, was the sixth duke, son of the famous Duchess Georgiana, and step-son of the hardly less famous Duchess Elizabeth. The latter, who was a daughter of the eccentric Bishop of Derry and Earl of Bristol, — a well-known figure in Roman studios during the closing years of the last century, — must have had something to do with directing the young duke’s taste toward Italian art. Certain it is that he became one of its most liberal patrons, purchasing many examples of Italian sculpture for his collection at Chatsworth. Four of the works LORENZO BARTOLINI. 75 now there were carved by Bartolini : the vase which Miss Berry refers to, the copy of the Venus de’ Medici, a bust of the Countess Potocka, and a recumbent figure of a Bacchante. . While Ingres and Bartolini were studying to- gether in the atelier David at Paris, some sarcastic fellow-student, observing their devotion to each other, had represented them in caricature as kneel- ing face to face, absorbed in mutual adoration. The friendship which they formed during the period of their novitiate in art had, as it proved, sufficient warmth to last through the years of sepa- ration which followed Bartolini’s removal from Paris to Carrara in 1806, and drew them afterward to- gether again at Florence in 1820. Before going there Ingres wrote to his friend Gilibert of Mont- auban, in a letter dated at Rome, July 7, 1818, ask- ing him to join them ; and in this letter he spoke of Bartolini as having already succeeded in build- ing up a clientage among the foreigners who visited Florence. “ II est tres-heureux a Florence. Ses portraits en marbre ont une grande vogue. C’est toujours le plus beau talent et le premier, de I’aveu de tons. Ses ateliers, sa correspondance forment un petit ministere. II vit comme un grand seig- neur, nous comble d amities dont les preuves sont au bout des paroles. En verite, il n y a rien d’italien en lui que son genie et son esprit. Pour le coeur, rien ; il est tout frau9ais. Mais il est assez malheu- reux de n’avoir fait que des ingrats par trop de 76 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. generosite et de bonte de coeur. II est entoure d’ennemis de toute espece que lui attire son grand talent, qui est parmi eux comine une vive et belle lumiere au milieu d’un chaos, et son esprit juste qui lui fait mepriser tout ce qui est bourgeois.’' Two years after the date of this letter Ingres removed from Rome to Florence and took a studio in the Via delle Belle Donne “ tout pres de Bartolini.” In a letter written by the French painter, referring to their intimacy during this period, he says : “ Leves a six heures, nous dejeunons a sept, et nous nous separons pour occuper toute et toute notre journee dans notre atelier. On se revoit le soir a diner, heure de repos et de conversation, jusqu’ a I’heure du theatre, ou Bartolini va tons les soirs de la vie. Et ainsi tons les jours ; vie uniforme, a la verite, mais celle qui convient a des artistes uniquement occupes de leur art et de la musique.” There is independent proof of the fact that Bar- tolini and Ingres were together in 1820, in the shape of a portrait which the latter painted of the former in that year. Into whose possession this portrait has passed I have not been able to learn, the family of the sculptor at Florence being ignorant of the name of the present owner. It was engraved, how- ever, by Fournier in 1836, and from this reproduction it is possible to form some idea of the merit of the original. Bartolini, in this second portrait by Ingres, bears no resemblance to the same person as painted by the same artist fifteen years before. In the LORENZO BARTOLINI. 77 first portrait he was represented as a vigorous and muscular youth, with the physical qualities almost dominating the intellectual. In the second portrait he is an elegant gentleman, with the air of a pol- ished man of the world. He stands, in this second picture, by a table upon which he rests his right hand — not clumsily, but in such a way as to indi- cate that the hand is a delicate organism trained into a second brain. The table is, in part, covered with a carelessly arranged mass of books, which appear to have been thrown down at random after having been consulted for some purpose. In the midst of them there is a marble bust of the Grand Duke of Tuscany, placed close to the edge of the canvas so that the line which bounds the picture leaves half of this accessory to the imagination of the observer. Bartolini is dressed in the costume of the period, but with some departures from the standard of Regent Street and the Rue de Rivoli, showing that he arrogated to himself the artists privilege of defying the tyranny of fashion. The broad dark velvet lapels of his coat are of uncon- ventional form, and the voluminous coat sleeves button tightly at the wrist with an unconventional cuff. The head and face, as Ingres has drawn them, are of great nobility and dignity. The sculptor has that air of sharpened apprehension which belongs to the man whose perceptive organ- ism is of the rarest and most perfect character. It is evident that not a detail, however minute, of any- ;8 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. thing which passes before his eyes, escapes his notice ; and that he apprehends everything which he sees, both in its outward and in its spiritual sig- nificance. The face is smooth-shaven, as in the earlier picture, and not a detail of the modelling of the features is lost. The mouth is firmly set, the eyes look straight forward with a penetrating gaze, and the brow shows, in detail, all those delicate variations of surface which unmistakably mark the man of thought. Ingres speaks, in the letter which has been quoted, of Bartolini’s portraits in marble as being in great demand, and of his correspondence as resembling that of a cabinet minister. His indus- try in producing these portrait-busts must have been equal to his skill ; for the number of them all told, which issued from his studio, is something over four hundred. Many of these must now be preserved in English homes ; for the English at Florence were among his most persistent patrons. Among those who sat to him were a number of persons of distinction, Byron being perhaps the most noted of all of his early subjects. And I should add that the poet seems to have taken especial pride in the marble portrait which the Florentine sculptor made of him, for he used to give away engravings of it (as appears from a cas- ual reference to the subject in one of the letters of Thomas Moore) as souvenirs to his friends. Barto- lini also modelled the features of Madame De Stael LORENZO BARTOLINI. 79 when her reputation was at its height, and in this way placed upon his list of patrons two persons whose names were perhaps more universally famil- iar throughout Europe than those of any other two .authors of their time. A hardly less famous per- son in that day, the actor Luigi Vestri, also sat to Bartolini ; and his bust, with an epigrammatic inscription by the poet Giuseppe Giusti, formed in 1855 one of the objects which decorated the villa of the Florentine painter Giuseppe Bezzuoli. Ves- tri’s name is now all but totally forgotten, and a hundred years hence he will probably owe it to Bartolini alone that he is remembered at all. The group of the Carita, Bartolini’s earliest work of imagination which exercised a material influence on the art of his time, was completed about 1824, and purchased by the Grand Duke of Tuscany. It represents a woman holding a child in her arms, while another child stands beside her reading from a scroll. The whole title which the sculptor gave to the work was Carita educatrice, not very easily translatable into English by any two words which would express the idea with equal simplicity and directness. The group stands at present in the centre of the Sala dell’ Iliade at the Pitti Palace, the first room in the picture gallery. The unique qualities in this work were the homely character of the subject and the naturalistic modelling of the figures. The Italian public of the day were accustomed exclusively to heroic subjects. 8o HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. and did not like the idea of degrading (as they would have said) art to the portrayal of common- place conceptions — such as that of a woman who was not a Minerva or anything else of recognizable distinction, teaching children to read or ministering to their other ordinary human wants. The Italian public of the day were also accustomed to a refine- ment of the human face and form based upon antique models, and they disapproved of the idea of copying actual human figures of Tuscan women and children with any degree of literalness. In both of these particulars Bartolini’s work was revolutionary, more revolutionary than we can now possibly understand. In some other particulars it was conservative, notably in the character of the draperies and in the modelling of the hair. Down to the end of his life Bartolini felt a repugnance to contemporary costume, and always insisted upon using something which resembled the traditional classic drapery. Also, to the end of his life, he was conventional in the modelling of hair, and never attempted to make it look like the natural human chevehire. For twenty-five years following the completion of the Carita, Bartolini was steadily engaged in the production of important works of sculpture. To this period of his ripe maturity belong the Fiducia in Dio and the Astyanax now in the Poldi-Pezzoli Museum at Milan, the monuments to Fossombroni, Alberti, and the Countess Zamoyska in S. Croce at LORENZO BARTOLINI. 8l Florence, the statue of MachiavelH in the portico of the Uffizi, the Demidoff monument in the Piazza Demidoff at Florence, and the Mastiani Brunacci monument in the Camposanto at Pisa. The Fiducia in Dio, a kneeling figure of a young woman with clasped hands and upturned eyes, in- tended to express the idea of reliance upon God, was completed in marble in 1835, and was purchased by the Donna Rosa Poldi-Pezzoli, daughter of the Marquis Gian Giacomo Trivulzio, and mother of Gian Giacomo Poldi-Pezzoli, who later became well known as the founder of the Poldi-Pezzoli Museum in Milan. The valuable collection of art-objects, which formed the nucleus of this museum, was com- menced by the acquisition of this particular statue of Bartolini’s, and the Fiducia in Dio is still regarded as one of the choicest works in the gallery. By way of comment, I could add little to what has been already said of the Carita, so far as indicating its place in the development of the sculptor’s personal style is concerned. Bartolini selected a beautiful model and copied it with the most scrupulous care. Gabriele Pepe, a Neapolitan critic, who visited the sculptor’s studio while the work was in progress, has jotted down the fact that Bartolini could not rely upon the ordinary diffused daylight to show him all the nicer modelling of the figure, and studied it by candle-light to bring into view the minute qualities which would otherwise have escaped him. The figure has been said to resemble the Magdalen of 82 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. Canova; but as a matter of fact it does not very closely reproduce the lines of that famous work, except in the particular that both figures are kneel- ing. The Magdalen of Canova is represented as looking downward, and she holds a cross in her hands. The expression, character, and pose of the head are entirely different, and there is no resem- blance in the physical types which the two sculptors selected for their models. Beside modelling the figure of which I have been speaking for the Donna Rosa Poldi-Pezzoli, Bartolini also modelled for her the famous group, represent- ing Pyrrhus precipitating Astyanax from the walls of Troy, which now stands on an open terrace in the middle of the garden front of the palace formerly occupied by the Poldi-Pezzoli at Milan, and now belonging to the Marquis Luigi Alberico Trivulzio. This palace, which is on the Via Alessandro Man- zoni near the hotels frequented by foreigners, is curiously constructed with an opening in the front on the principal street, which makes it possible to look through to the garden front and see the Barto- lini group in its conspicuous position on the raised terrace. The group is very peculiar in its lines, and must have attracted the attention of many persons who had no idea what it was intended to represent. The sculptor, who had confined himself, before at- tempting this work, exclusively to modelling figures in repose, undertook this particular group as a tour de fo7%e to show that he was quite equal to model- LORENZO BARTOLINI. 83 ling the human figure in violent action. Pyrrhus stands with one foot forward, as if just rushing to the battlements, and the boy Astyanax hangs from his raised left hand like a sling from which a missile is about to be hurled. The third figure, swooning on the ground at the feet of Pyrrhus, represents Andromache, the mother of Astyanax. In the memorable hail-storm, which did so much damage at Milan a number of years ago, this group, owing to its exposed position, suffered serious in- juries, the right arm of Pyrrhus and part of the arm of Astyanax having been broken off and precipitated in fragments upon the terrace. After this accident, the Commendatore Bertini, the director of the Poldi- Pezzoli Museum to which the work belongs, took steps to have a perfect replica of the group cast in bronze ; and this replica is about to be placed in the position hitherto occupied by the marble. I cannot learn the exact date when the various statues and groups composing the Demidoff monu- ment were commenced, but it must have been sev- eral years before 1837, as in that year there was published a laudatory -poem at Florence, devoted entirely to a magnification of this work, and de- scribing its various component parts substantially as we now see them. This monument, which is regarded as Bartolini’s chef-d’oeuvre, and which was certainly the largest, the most complex, and the most ambitious of his various sculptural under- takings, was intended to commemorate General 84 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. Nicholas Demidoff, a Russian gentleman of great wealth, who served for a short time in the Russian army during the Napoleonic campaigns, and who, removing to Florence sometime before 1812, passed the remaining years of his life in that city, and died there in April, 1828. He left two sons, Paul and Anatole Demidoff, and it was the latter who com- missioned Bartolini to model the monument of which I am now speaking, and who is represented as a youth of about fifteen, standing beside his father in the group which forms the principal feature of the design.^ ^ I find an interesting reference to the elder DemidoflT, in a letter written by Longfellow in January, 1828, which is given in the biogra- phy of the poet by Samuel Longfellow. “When I reached Florence,” he says, “ the first thing I heard was Demidoff. If I asked who such a lady was, ‘ Oh, she is so and so. I saw her the other night at Demi- doff ’s.’ ‘Do you go to the opera to-night?’ ‘Opera, no; I am going to Demidoff’s.’ ‘Pray tell me, is there a French theatre in Florence?’ ‘Oh, yes, certainly there is, at Demidoff’s.’ I at length grew desper- ate, ‘Who the deuce is Demidoff?’ said I. ‘Ah, don’t you know him? Haven’t been presented? Sorry for you.’ At length I got at the truth of the matter. Demidoff is a Russian count of immense wealth, living on an income of a million dollars a year — about two a minute. He is now on the down hill of life, but fond of the pleasures of society. He gives splendid balls and parties three times a week which, after being once presented, you attend when you please without further invitation. A few evenings since I was presented there by the consul in company with one or two other American gentlemen. Passing through the ante-chambers, we found the company assembled in the theatre. The count has a private company of French comedians attached to his suite, to lend a hand in clearing away the rubbish of his million a year.” Longfellow goes on to say that he saw the head of the estab- lishment sitting near the door in an elbow chair with two large wheels, his infirmity being such that he could not walk. “ His countenance DEM I DOFF MONUMENT FROM THE MARBLES BY BARTOLIXI IN THE PIAZZA DEMIDOFF, FLORENCE m ■ ?; •^3 V, •■,o,',#^:i ^ "•-it:-. 1 ; 1 - .1 LORENZO BARTOLINI. 85 Arranged about this central group are four other figures and groups, placed at the four corners of the pyramidal base, representing respectively Siberia, Art, Festivity, and Compassion. This association of ideas appears at first thought perfectly incon- gruous ; but upon second thought it will be found that they all represent conceptions which were prominently associated with the life of General Demidoff in the minds of the Florentines. His wealth, which was derived from mines in Siberia, was used in part for the encouragement of art, in part in making his Italian palace the centre of the most brilliant social life at Florence, and in part in broad schemes of charity and philanthropy which took visible form in the founding of hospitals and public institutions in Russia and elsewhere. The views which Bartolini entertained on the subject of costume and drapery were, to the end of his life, very conservative. And this is made abundantly evident by the character of the dra- peries used in the Demidoff monument. Perhaps it is natural enough that the allegorical personages bespeaks a great deal of benevolence, and you hear of him as being very generous in his charities to the poor. He likes to see the world happy around him, and I daresay has more than one passing regret that he cannot break that two-wheel chair of his, and figure away in the dance with the best of them.” Nicholas Demidoff died three months after this letter was written. His son Anatole, who was given the title of Prince of S. Donato, was for many years one of the most brilliant figures in European cosmopolitan society. The marriage of the latter to the Princess Mathilde Bonaparte, which occurred in 1841, was terminated by a separation four years later. 86 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. should wear an idealized costume ; but, since the custom has changed and the practice become well- nigh universal of draping portrait-statues in the garments which the subjects of the portraits were in the habit of wearing, it seems somewhat strange to see Prince Anatole Demidoff and his father attired only in the folds of a toga. The faces are portraits ; but at that point the literal copying of the models stopped. The figures represent a selec- tion from several models, and the drapery is made frankly classic. How decided his views were on the subject of costume is made clear by the follow- ing passage quoted by Oreste Raggi in his life of Tenerani, in which Bartolini explicitly stated his opinion in the matter: “It is my belief,” he says, “ that the sole object which the artist has to set before him is the imitation of nature, despite all that is said by the so-called idealists who like to talk, simply because they have got a pen to write with and a table to write on. And in this matter, about which you have asked my opinion, I do not feel that I am going back on my own principles in placing myself on your side ” (Raggi had advocated the use of classic draperies), “ because I understand by the ‘ imitation of nature ’ the imitation of the natural figure of men and animals, and not of the nonsensical fashions of the day. It is true that if you imitate these last, you secure the relative merit which attaches to any correct imitation ; but I can- not believe that it is our duty to make great men LORENZO BARTOLINI. 87 ridiculous in the eyes of posterity by dressing them in the absurd attire which is prescribed by the fash- ion of courts or the usages of commerce and trade. It is therefore my opinion that the classic draperies, which have been so long used, raise the artistic character of a work and dignify the subject — the example of the column of Austerlitz at Paris to the contrary notwithstanding.” Possibly one of the circumstances which gives an additional justification to the use of classic draperies in the central group of the Demidoff monument, is the introduction of the allegorical fissure of Grati- tilde as one of the component parts of the com- position. It would certainly present a singular appearance if the kneeling figure at the left, belonging unmistakably to a world of pure imagi- nation, were placed side by side with two men in the street or house dress of the year 1828, belong- ing equally unmistakably to the prosaic world of every-day life. Bartolini never saw all of the different statues and groups of the Demidoff monument finally put together in the way in which he intended them to be arranged. He made a small model, showing what his idea was, and this model was kept for a while at the Demidoff villa near Florence. All the large figures and groups were also taken to the villa and kept there until 1870. The central group was carved twice, one of the versions being placed in the grounds and the other in the house. In 88 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. 1870 all of the marbles, with the exception of the replica of the central group, became the property of the city of Florence, and were placed in the small square on the left bank of the Arno above the Ponte alle Grazie, which is now called the Piazza Demidoff. Some finishing touches were added by Pasquale Romanelli, and the same artist, as I am informed, also designed the bas-reliefs which now ornament the pedestal. It seems a great mistake to have placed the marbles where they now stand. The statues were carved on too small a scale to be seen to advantage when raised on high pedestals in a public square. They have also, in the course of the few years which have elapsed since their assignment to their present position, become seriously discolored by exposure to the weather, and the rough shed which has been placed over them to protect them from further damage is not worthy of works of art of such importance. I was informed by the Com- mendatore Luchi, Bartolini’s son-in-law, that accord- ing to a tradition in the family. Prince Demidoff intended to arrange the pyramid of statues in a room lined with malachite, and all who see them where they are at present placed will regret that this project could not have been realized. The critic who examines Bartolini’s work in the expectation of finding there something which he can select and define as the initial step toward cer- tain repulsive phases of modern realism, will be sure LORENZO BARTOLINI. 89 to be disappointed. I know of only one work in which this distinguished artist and leader repre- sented the human form in other than a state of phy- sical perfection — that one instance being the recumbent figure of the Countess Zamoyska in the church of S. Croce. The noble Polish lady to whom this monument was erected died in advanced age at Florence in 1837, and by her request or by the will of her family she was buried there. In preparing the design for her monument, it was Bar- tolinis idea to represent her as extended upon a couch precisely as he remembered having seen her, with the placid and serene expression of a woman of advanced years, whose life has been free from spot or stain, and who awaits death with perfect calmness and tranquillity. A sculptor of a later day would probably have represented her as reclining upon a couch of more modern design ; but Barto- lini was not disposed to push the truthfulness of his record to this point, and consequently selected a semi-classic model for this accessory, suggesting but not literally reproducing the lines of the furni- ture used in aristocratic households during the First Empire. A covering embossed with stars is thrown over the lower part of the figure, but is not brought up over the arms or shoulders. The bust is draped in a loose gown with full flowing sleeves of some light material, looking like a garment which might actually have been worn by an invalid, and sufficiently soft in its lines to satisfy the sculptor’s 90 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. exacting taste in the matter of drapery. The face is emaciated and is undoubtedly an accurate portrait, showing the subject of the work precisely as she appeared in advanced years ; and it is in the way in which the countenance is modelled that the work suggests, if it suggests at all, the modern realistic sculpture. Bartolini had at least three courses open to him in designing this tomb : he might have selected an allegorical figure ; he might have mod- elled the countess as she appeared in the prime of life; or he might have done as he in fact has done — put into marble a literal reproduction of her face and form, as he had himself seen and observed them. Having selected the third alternative, it would hardly have been possible to execute the work in a less objectionable manner than as he actually rendered it. All the details which could repel one were softened down to their least offensive aspect ; and the nobility and spiritual elevation of the subject were brought to the front and made the salient features of the work. The well-known monument in the Camposanto at Pisa, called the Inconsolabile, representing a widow seated in an attitude of mourning above the tomb of her husband, differs from the monument just described in every particular. It was erected in memory of Count Mastiani Brunacci, and was completed about 1842. The figure of the countess is probably an idealized one, and is intended to represent simply in a general way the mourning LORENZO BARTOLINI. 91 wife. The face may be a portrait of some one, but it is more likely to be that of a model, who posed to Bartolini for the purpose, than of the lady who caused it to be carved. The draperies, if we except the coronet upon the head, and the veil which descends from it, are purely classic. Instead of a couch or a chair, the sculptor placed the figure upon a cubical block of marble unrelieved by any ornament, unless we regard as an ornament the ser- pent, symbolical of eternity, which is carved upon it in relief. The statue has a certain quality of ele- gance in its lines which gives it a place quite by itself in the series of the sculptors works. Other works of Bartolini at Florence besides the ones which I have already mentioned are the Al- berti monument, which, like the Zamoyska monu- ment, is given a place in the church of S. Croce, and the statue of Machiavelli which forms one of the series of statues of distinguished Tuscans filling the niches of the portico of the Uffizi. Machiavelli is represented as standing with one hand raised to his chin, in the attitude of a man absorbed in thought, while the other hand rests upon a low pillar upon which are carved the coats of arms of all the various minor territorial divisions which were brought together under Florentine rule. In this instance, the dress worn by statesmen of the period when the subject of the work was alive, not being regarded as inappropriate for sculptural rep- resentation, Bartolini saw fit to depart from his 92 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. almost invariable rule of clothing his statues in classic draperies and attired him in the costume of the day. The expression of the face indicates that the subject of the work is engaged in maturing some subtle scheme for aggrandizing the power of the Tuscan government, and presents a conception of the man which is in close accordance with the popular idea of his character. That the face is intended to be a portrait is made evident from cer- tain letters of Bartolini now in existence, written in 1845 when he first undertook this commission, and in which he asked information as to where authentic likenesses of Machiavelli could be found. Very few works by Bartolini are to be found in churches, galleries, or public collections in Italy outside of Florence. There is, as has been already mentioned, the Mastiani Brunacci monument in the Camposanto at Pisa, and there are the two famous works belonging to the Poldi-Pezzoli Mu- seum at Milan ; but beside these I can only men- tion a very few which are now in places accessible to the public. Among these last is an interesting minor work in the Tosio Gallery at Brescia, repre- senting a boy standing in a low cask and treading out grapes. This piece of sculpture is entered upon the catalogue of the gallery as a Bacco Pigiatore ; but the title given to it by Bartolini himself was L' Ammostatore, a substantive derived from the verb ammostare, meaning to press or tread out the juice of grapes. The whole work stands not more LORENZO BARTOLINI. 93 than a metre and a half in height, and the figure of the grape-treader is that of a boy of eight or nine years of age. The face and form seem to be copied closely from the normal child-figure ; the hair is slightly idealized, being made more luxuriant and abundant than one would find it in real life. A crown of grape leaves is added to help define the character of the work. Count Tosio evidently appreciated the importance of having a statue by Bartolini in his collection, for he gave it the place of honor in a small cabinet which was arranged expressly to receive it and which is called the Cabinet of Bacchus. Upon examining the work closely I found an inscription in irregular charac- ters, evidently chiselled by the sculptor himself, on the upper hoop of the low cask in which the figure stands, the inscription being to the effect that this particular marble is a second version of a work already once carved for Count Pourtales of Paris, and that in the estimation of the artist the second version was the better of the two ; or, to give the words as they stand in the Italian — “Bartolini Faceva e Preferiva al C p. il Cte. Pourtales a Parigi.” Bartolini presented himself as a candidate in 1825 for the position of professor of sculpture in the Academy of Fine Arts at Florence, which was made vacant December 23, 1824, by the death of Francesco Carradori, but failed to obtain the place. The man who successfully contested with him the title to the chair was Stefano Ricci, who is 94 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. now principally known by his monument to Dante at S. Croce. The reputation of Ricci compared to the reputation of Bartolini is at present insignifi- cant; but probably at the time the choice was made the appointing authorities could not have done otherwise than as they did. Inasmuch as only two years had passed since the death of Canova, it was too soon to expect an Italian acad- emy to assign the control of its school of sculpture to an artist who antagonized Canova’s doctrines. Ricci was a man against whom no one could bring any charge of disloyalty to classic principles. As a confession of faith, nothing could be more explicit and conclusive than his Dante monument, in which everything is forced into conformity with classic standards, even to the portrait-figure of the poet himself. Upon the death of Ricci in 1837 (November 23), Bartolini made another effort to obtain the position of professor of sculpture at the Academy ; and this time was successful. He seems to have desired the appointment more as a personal vindication than because he wished to enter upon the career of an instructor at the official school, or because he cared for the emolument which it would bring him. In a letter written by him to one of his friends on the very day of Ricci’s decease, he mentions his desire to have the place, and says that he would “sacrifice the opportunity to model the portrait of the King of France, or of going to St. Petersburg,” if he LORENZO BARTOLINI. 95 could only obtain the professorship. He declared that nothing would give him greater satisfaction or, as he expresses it, “ consolation,” than to succeed to the vacant chair. Bartolini had, by this time, placed himself so distinctly at the head of the sculptors of Tuscany that there was no denying his right to receive the appointment. A new genera- tion of critics and connoisseurs had come to the front since his repulse of thirteen years before, and it was no longer the fashion to condemn his work. He was openly spoken of in print as the “ master- sculptor of our age ” and as “ the restorer of the art of sculpture to its primitive majestic natural sim- plicity”; and the tide having once turned in his favor, it was relatively easy for him to secure almost any position to which he aspired. Sometime after he accepted his professorship in the Academy, he brought a hunchback into the school of sculpture as a model for his pupils.^ When his act became generally known throughout Italy, it caused somewhat the same sensation which was created thirty years later by the publication at Bologna of the famous Hymn to Satan by the university professor and poet, Giosue Carducci. Bartolini, by his appointment to a professorship in the official Florentine art school, had been made a priest in the Temple of the Beautiful, and his act in setting up a hunchback as a model for his pupils to 1 The subject assigned to the students was “yEsop composing his fables.” 96 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. draw from, seemed to the conservative party in art much the same thing as if he had pulled down the true divinity from its shrine and set up the incarna* tion of wickedness in its place. He was attacked by various writers in a number of different journals and periodicals ; and, inasmuch as he was not the man to remain silent when he believed himself to be unjustly accused, he entered the lists himself and responded with vigor and spirit to his assail- ants. In his reply to one of his anonymous critics — a reply which appeared in one of the issues of the GioT 7 iale del Commercio for 1842 — he insisted that the most important thing for every art student to learn was how to copy accurately, and that what he copied was relatively unimportant. “ Everything in nature is beautiful in its way,” he said, “ and he who learns how to copy, has learned the whole lesson of art.” “ Paul Potter painted a bull which would not measure more than half a braccio, and yet you could not buy that picture for ten thousand scudi ; and the reason why it is so valuable is because the imitation of nature is so perfect. I therefore insist that the all-important thing is to copy and to copy truthfully; and fame and fortune will follow. If the anonymous writer . . . had only carefully studied my teachings, he would have found out that I have no desire to burn temples or to destroy museums for the sake of making myself famous ; but that on the contrary my wish is to enlarge them by making my methods of instruction con- LORENZO BARTOLINI. 97 form to the rules which governed the glorious workmen of the sixteenth century who bequeathed to us the St. George, the colossal David, and other similar works, and which lead up to the perfection of Phidias. . . . When a young man has once grasped this principle, he has learned the one essen- tial thino- in which all the rest is involved. The ability to select, to compose, to adjust the draperies properly and give proper expression to the subject, and to acquire the coveted power of making the marble look like flesh, — all this will follow, and not a little valuable time will be saved which is usually wasted in profitless studies. And the pupil who cannot model a hunchback will never produce anything but bungling figures which will not be worth so much as even a hunchback or a cripple.” Bartolini barely lived to see the century reach its middle point, his death occurring on the twentieth of January, 1850. It was his good fortune, how- ever, before the end came, to see the triumph in Italy of the ideas of which he had been such a fervent champion, and for which he had con- tended against such almost overwhelming odds. In 1847 he made a journey to Rome to model a bust of Pius IX, and had the satisfaction of learning that there at the very centre of classic art, where the ideas of Canova had received their first expansion, his own principles had come to be regarded as a truer gospel and a more solidly grounded faith. This appears from a letter which he wrote from 98 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. Rome in April, 1847, to his friend, Benericetti Talenti, at Florence, in which he says: “The simple glimmering of an idea, which has made its way hither, of my longing to see some progress made in art, has secured me the consolation of hear- ing myself referred to as the foremost of Italian artists. ‘ What vanity ! ’ you will exclaim. But I say — not at all, for I do not claim to be great my- self, but only to be able to make those great who are willing to profit by my teaching.” Although it is impossible that a man like Bartolini, who struggled so hard for success, should be absolutely insensible to the recognition of his talents, and indifferent to the honors shown him personally by conceding to him the position of leadership in Italian art, it is nevertheless true that he was less subject than many of his craft to the minor weakness of personal vanity. He un- doubtedly found an even greater satisfaction at the close of his life in seeing his ideas prevail than he did in finding that his admirers were disposed to place him, personally, upon a pinnacle, and bow down in reverence before him. After the sculptor s death his heirs presented to the city of Florence the models of his various works which remained in his different studios, and the municipality removed them to the disestablished monastery of S. Salvi, where the models of works by other artists, which had similarly become the property of the city, were subsequently placed. They are at present arranged partly in the refec- LORENZO BARTOLINI. 99 tory and adjacent rooms of the monastery, and partly in a long and narrow room made by partition- ins: off one of the sides of the cloister. The long- array of busts placed upon shelves on either side of this last-mentioned room shows how industrious Bartolini must have been to produce so many works of this character, and how extensive a popularity he must have enjoyed. Half of the aristocracy of Europe of the first half of the century are gathered upon these shelves, and it is unfortunate that the city of Florence should never have made provision for having labels attached to the several busts so as to make it possible for those who make the pilgrim- age to S. Salvi to identify the different persons represented. As to his works in general I am obliged to say that they do not appear to advantage in the plaster casts. This is no discredit to the artist, however. Bartolini was an expert workman in marble, and many of his productions owe a large part of their grace and charm to the skilful touches which he added after the statue or group had been trans- ferred from the clay or plaster to the more enduring material. Bartolini did not settle down and establish him- self in a home of his own until late in life, the date of his marriage being April ii, 1831. His Avife, Maria Anna Virginia Buoni, was a daughter of Doctor Costantino Buoni of Florence. She sur- Auved her husband many years, not dying until 100 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. January 2, 1892. Of this marriage, four children were born, the names of the two oldest, Jerome Napoleon and Pauline Napoleona, showing the sculptor’s abiding loyalty to the Bonaparte family which had befriended him when he was friendless, and to which he owed his first established position in life. The sculptor’s first-born child died in infancy. The second child grew to womanhood and became the wife of the Commendatore Lorenzo Luchi of Florence. Bartolini lived for many years in a large house in the Via Pinti (No. 79), portions of which are at present occupied by the Commenda- tore Luchi and by his daughter, the Marchesa Pia- netti. The sculptor had at one time three studios: one being annexed to his residence in the Via Pinti, another being at the Academy of Fine Arts, and the third and largest of the three in the Borgo S. Frediano, in the building once used as a church under the name of S. Maria in Verzosa. The street which passes in the rear of this last-named studio is now known as the Via Lorenzo Bartolini. CHAPTER III. THE TRANSITION FROM CLASSICISM TO NATURALISM. General state of sculpture in Italy at the death of Bartolini. — Relations of the leading sculptors at Florence and Rome with Bartolini and with Thorvaldsen. — Distinction between the style of Thorvaldsen and that of Canova. — Influence of the former on Tenerani. — Tene- rani’s early training. — The relations between Tenerani and Thor- valdsen. — Works produced by Tenerani while under the direct influence of the Danish sculptor. — Reliefs by Tenerani ; the Descent from the Cross. — Statues of Orlofif and Bolivar and the rare excel- lence of the latter. — Tenerani’s journey abroad in 1844. — Monu- ment to Pius VIII in St. Peter’s. — Statue of Pellegrino Rossi. — Sculpture in other parts of Italy ; to what extent influenced by Bartolini and to what extent by Tenerani. — Luigi Pampaloni and his work. — Pio Fedi and the Polyxena group. — Giovanni Diipr^ and the quality of his talent. — The recumbent statue of Abel. — The Pieta. — Dupre’s sensitiveness to external influences. — The Cavour monument. — Last works. — Sculpture at Genoa during this period. — The Columbus monument. — Pietro Freccia and the other collaborating sculptors. — Santo Varni and his work. — Sculpture at Milan during this period. — Benedetto Cacciato 7 'i. — Commissions executed for the Sardinian royal family. — Cacciatori’s works at Milan. — He is retired from his professorship at the Milan Academy and succeeded by younger men. — Sculpture at Turin during this period. — Carlo Marochetti. — His early studies and first success at the Salon. — Statue of Emanuele Filiberto and its popularity at Turin. — Statue of Carlo Alberto. — Other works of Marochetti. When Bartolini died the most eminent sculptors in Italy were Tenerani at Rome and Dupre at Flor- ence. Marches! was just going down at Milan and 102 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. Vela had not come up. At Naples the new school of sculptors and painters had done little. The eye of Italy was not yet upon them. Nobody out- side of the narrow circle of the elect spirits even suspected that a great movement was in preparation there. Dupre had certain direct affiliations with Barto- lini, though there was nothing to draw their ideas together except that they worked in the same town. Tenerani had every reason for taking his ideas from Bartolini, because he had been a pupil in an art school where Bartolini had been a teacher. But he did not like Bartolini’s personality, and carried over his dislike of his personality into a dislike of his ideas. And as a consequence he cannot be classed as Bartolinian by direct derivation, although his work looks something like Bartolini’s work. The person who sustained the direct relation of pater- nity to him was Thorvaldsen ; and it thus happens that the inheritance of the sculptural primacy at Rome — the primacy which had been held undis- puted by Canova down to his death in 1822 — fell in the next generation, not to one of his pupils, but to a pupil of his rival. Sculptural art in the next generation had therefore an element of Danish influence in it, coming from Copenhagen, just as pictorial art had an element of Germanic influence in it coming from Liibeck — the element introduced by Overbeck. Without undertaking to make a minute analysis THE PERIOD OF TRANSITION. 103 of the difference between the art of Canova and the art of Thorvaldsen, I should say that their most striking divergences were in the matter of subject and of physical type. Thorvaldsen commanded quite a range of imaginative subjects, which were not in the repertory of Canova — a range of subjects illustrated by such works as the Day and Night, and many other bas-reliefs. He also adhered less closely to the classic type than Canova, approach- ing like Bartolini nearer to the actual human form, but using a class of models which distinguished his figures from Bartolini’s. Coming as he did under the direct influence of Thorvaldsen when a young man, Tenerani natu- rally followed the latter in the particulars where he differed from Canova. The type of face and figure which he adopted in his imaginative works resem- bles very closely that adopted by his Danish mas- ter. He also to some extent followed the leading of Thorvaldsen in the selection of imaginative sub- jects, not confining himself so closely to classic themes as Canova. Pietro Tenerani was born at Torano near Car- rara, November ii, 1789, and was educated in his native province. His name appears upon the rec- ords of the Academy of Fine Arts at Carrara as early as 1803, had consequently been a pupil for several years before Bartolini assumed the duties of professor of sculpture in that institution. To any one who knows the character of the two men, it 104 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. is fairly obvious why they drew apart. Bartolini was abrupt and peremptory ; he could never have uttered a word to conciliate a pupil. Tenerani was proud, sensitive, and of a nature which would not willingly endure contact with any one who was not prepared at times to make concessions to him. Be- ing debarred by incompatibility of temperament from working under Bartolini, he received most of his instruction from the painter Des Marais, a per- son whose views were not very advanced, and who could hardly have given to his pupil any very valuable ideas. In 1813 Tenerani won the prix de Rome in the gift of the Carrara Academy, and was thus enabled to leave his native province and establish himself in what the writers of his time designated as the Capital of the Arts. The relations between Tenerani and Thorvaldsen began before the former had been in Rome a year. Thorvaldsen was obliged to employ many assistants ^ to help him in executing his commissions, and Tenerani having attracted his attention by a clever copy of one of the colossi of Monte Cavallo, he offered the youth a chance to earn some money ^ Among the young men who were employed by Thorvaldsen at this time was Luigi Bienaimd, born at Carrara in 1795, and a pupil of the Carrara Academy. Winning the prix de Rome in 1817, he removed to the papal city at that time, and continued to reside there until the date of his death April 17, 1878. He was the author of a David, a Telemachus, a Bacchante, a Cupid giving water to a dove, a Guardian Angel protecting Innocence, a John the Baptist (now in the Metro- politan Museum at New York), and many other works. THE PERIOD OF TRANSITION. 105 by helping him in the work in his studio. Tenerani was hard pressed for funds, and accepted the posi- tion more than willingly. He began to assist Thor- valdsen by enlarging parts of sketch-models, and became in the course of a few years infinitely con- venient to the Danish sculptor. The latter, when he received an irksome commission, could hastily prepare a small bozzetto, and then turn the whole matter over to Tenerani, who would work it up to the proper dimensions under Thorvaldsen’s direc- tions or without them. He even went farther than this, and suggested alterations in the general design, which in some cases Thorvaldsen saw fit to adopt. When he reached this stage, he wished to have Thorvaldsen admit the nature of his assistance to persons outside of the studio, and give him some credit for his ideas instead of keeping him in the background and taking all the credit to himself. I am going over rapidly the long period of their professional connection for the sake of conveying a general idea of its character, and make no attempt to state details with minute precision. The two men continued to be friends for fourteen years, from 1815 until 1829, and then a rupture occurred while they were at work together on the monument of Eugene Beauharnais, commissioned by his widow the Princess Amalie of Bavaria, a monument which, when completed, was erected in the church of St. Michael at Munich. I have looked over carefully all that has been o6 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. said of this final dispute, both by the Italian biogra- pher of Tenerani and by the French and Danish biographers of Thorvaldsen ; and the history of the unpleasant occurrence as narrated by the authorities on both sides makes it clear that Thorvaldsen was in the wrong. Any one who goes into the private history of great men will find this thing continually recurring — their unwillingness to give the men whom they take, for their own convenience, into intellectual partnership with them any credit for their share of the production. The statesman wishes the private secretary who furnishes a third of the ideas for his speeches to be content with the money wages which he receives for his services ; and so long as the secretary retains that relation to his employer, and takes the pay which he knows is given to him on just that understanding, this is all right. The trouble in the case of the dispute between Thorvaldsen and Tenerani was that the Beauharnais monument was undertaken by them in partnership. Before the work was commenced, or while it was in progress, articles of agreement were drawn up establishing a partnership between them, and the princess was informed of the fact. Thorvaldsen made, in the first instance, a sketch- model for the whole monument, but Tenerani sug- gested important modifications in the accessory figures which finally prevailed ; and he did all the modelling of the full-sized figures except that of the head of Beauharnais. When it came to his THE PERIOD OF TRANSITION. 107 drawing his pay from the bankers Thorvaldsen insisted that in the receipt Tenerani should be characterized as a mere employe; and Tenerani s unwillingness to be branded by that title brought about the final break. Some attempt was finally made by persons of such eminence as the Duke of Sermoneta and the director of the French Academy, Horace Vernet, to bring about a reconciliation be- tween them, and this attempt was partially success- ful. Tenerani certainly showed himself generously minded in the matter, and was even anxious to do honor to the memory of his great master after his death by contributing a considerable sum for the statue of Thorvaldsen by Wolff, which now stands in the garden of the Palazzo Barberini. The first works of Tenerani — those which he executed while he continued in relations with Thor- valdsen — were a Paris offering the apple to Venus (1816), a Psyche deserted by Cupid (1817), a Cupid extracting a thorn from the foot of Venus (1822), a second Psyche, {Psicke sverntta, 1822), a Faun playing the Tibia (1823), a Genius of Hunting (1825), and a Genius of Fishing (same year) — all of them simple, graceful productions, showing a well-trained hand and a refined taste. The Psyche deserted by Cupid, which was exhibited at the time of the visit of the Austrian emperor and his suite to Rome in 1819, was pointed out as a commendable work to Prince Metternich, who ordered a replica of it. And either the original, or a replica of the Cupid extract- io8 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. ing a thorn from the foot of Venus, was purchased by the Duke of Devonshire for the collection which he was then forming at Chatsworth. I find more that is of present interest in the bas-reliefs, which Tenerani designed, than in these earlier figures in the round. The bas-relief, sym- bolizing Charity, carved in 1833 for the tomb of the Marchioness of Northampton, in the church at Castle- Ashby in Northamptonshire, shows con- siderable skill in composition, exceptional taste in the arrangement of draperies, and a rather finer analysis of expression than that worked out by Bartolini in his Carita edticatrice. The best known of Tenerani’s reliefs is the Descent from the Cross (1844), in the Torlonia chapel in the church of St. John Lateran, presenting identically the same merits as the relief at Castle-Ashby church, but less directly suggestive of the bas-relief style of Thorvaldsen, and entitled to be regarded as a more original creation. This work is interesting as a step in the art-history of the century, because it shows the weakening force of the antique and the growing strength of the move- ment in favor of a slightly closer study of nature ; and it is interesting also as a definition of Tenerani’s personal tastes and tendencies, because it shows his insistence upon elevation and dignity in his sub- jects, and upon a certain Raphaelesque harmony of lines in their interpretation. In the graceful ar- rangement of draperies, Tenerani has had no superior among the sculptors of Italy during the present cen- THE PERIOD OF TRANSITION. 09 tury ; and this phase of his talent is well illustrated by the relief just referred tod I lay less stress, however, upon his bas-reliefs than upon his portrait-statues, in which he sur- passed all the Italian sculptors of his time, so far as their works have come to my notice. Dignity of pose and nobility of facial expression are charac- teristic of all of them. In his first important por- trait-statue, that of Count Orloff (1835), he adhered to the rules laid down by the classicists in respect to draperies and accessories, placing his subject in a Roman chair and throwing a toga over his shoulder; but in his subsequent works he used modern costume, and was one of the first Italian sculptors to do this. His statue of Bolivar, modelled in 1842 for South America, is in every way admirable as an example of plastic portraiture. The pose is dignified, manly, and firm. The face is that of a great man with a certain consciousness of personal value, but without vanity — the expres- sion indicating a sense of great responsibility crowd- ing down any mere elation over the consciousness of possessing great power. The costume is mod- elled with that sense of refinement and eleo:ance which rarely deserted Tenerani, and by a happy inspiration he has made the tightly-drawn folds of 1 I intended to introduce a reproduction of this relief among the illustrations in this book, but the photograph made for me by Moscioni for the purpose turned out to be valueless, owing to the defective light- ing of the chapel. I lO HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. the military cloak help out the suggestion of firm- ness, resolution, and determination indicated by the face. It would not be possible to speak with such unqualified approval of the treatment of cos- tume in the statue of Wentworth (1859) at Sydney; but this, so far as I am aware, was the only instance in which Tenerani ever showed himself awkward or ungraceful in this feature of his work. In 1844 Tenerani made a journey abroad and was received with many marks of respect at Munich and Berlin. King Frederick William IV, who was then sovereign of Prussia, invited him to his table at Sanssouci, and the acquaintance then formed with the royal family resulted in his receiving from the widowed queen in 1861 a commission for the figure of the Angel of the Resurrection, now in the Friedenskirche at Potsdam. I mention this w^ork as indicating the steady growth of the sculptor’s reputation abroad, but at the same time I find it impossible to regard it as a very strongly original creation, owing to its facial resemblance to Thor- valdsen’s St. John, or as in other respects worthy to be ranked among its author’s best productions. There are several other versions of the same statue, one of them being at Rome in the church of S. Maria sopra Minerva, and another in the church at Castle- Ashby in Northamptonshire. The regular progress of work in Tenerani’s studio, as in all Roman studios, was very much interrupted by the political events of 1848-1849. THE PERIOD OF TRANSITION. 1 1 1 The sculptor felt a strong personal sympathy for Pius IX, who had appointed him a member of the municipal representation and shown other kind- nesses to him, and he also became profoundly interested in the success of Count Pellegrino Rossi who was, like himself, a native of the province of Carrara and who, in September, 1848, became one of the principal ministers of the papal government. As great as his liking for Rossi, was his indigna- tion when the minister was stabbed on the steps of the palace of the Cancelleria in November of that year. And as democracy became more and more triumphant in the days which followed, Tenerani became more and more disaffected. The anti-papal spirit invaded everything at Rome, and a portrait of the pope was insulted and dis- figured in a club to which Tenerani belonc^ed. Learning of this indignity he sent a warm letter of protest to the president of the society, demanding that his name should be erased from the list of members. His strong papal sympathies being made known in this and other ways, he was threatened by an anonymous communication with a fate like that of Rossi if he did not leave the city. Matters having arrived at this pass, Tenerani thought it prudent to place himself and his family out of dan- ger, and withdrawing from the scene of so much tumult and confusion, he remained away from Rome until after quiet had been restored. In 1853 Tenerani received from Pius IX a II2 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. commission for a monument to Pius VIII, to be erected from funds bequeathed to the Camera Apos- tolica for that purpose by Cardinal Giuseppe Albani. For nearly thirteen years the sculptor toiled away at this commission, and in 1866 the completed struct- ure was exposed to the view of the public in the position which it now occupies in St. Peters above the door to the sacristy. It seems perfectly evident that Tenerani worked in this case without any clear, compelling vision at the outset of precisely what he wanted to do, and arrived at his result in the end by a mechanical process of composition, largely gov- erned by what had come to be regarded as the established formula in designing a papal tomb. It is possible that he had an original idea, and that he abandoned it from the conviction that his superiors would not approve it. If that is true, we can acquit him of a part of the responsibility for the result. But as to the nature of the result itself there has been, I think, at no time much difference of opinion. The monument as it stands is a coldly conventional production, respectably commonplace and nothing more. Far superior in artistic value is the portrait-statue of Count Pellegrino Rossi, which Tenerani com- menced not long after Rossi’s tragic death and completed (in clay) in 1854. Two versions of this work exist : one of them originally carved for Don Mario Massimo, Duke of Rignano ; and the other commissioned by the municipality of Carrara, and THE PERIOD OF TRANSITION. 113 erected in 1876, after the sculptor’s death, in a public square in that town. Count Rossi is seated in a mod- ern chair, dressed in modern costume, and has the head and face of a modern statesman — a face which seems much more English than Italian. Good taste is imprinted upon every detail of this work, and the conception of character shows with the utmost dis- tinctness the love and admiration which the artist felt for his subject. Tenerani toiled at intervals over the marble of this work down to the last week of his life, having the chisel in his hands only seven days before his death, which occurred December 14, 1869. Here, in conclusion, let me say that the sculptor of whom I have been speaking received many honors from his various royal and princely patrons, and was decorated with the crosses of several differ- ent orders of knighthood. Perhaps more important than any of these was the honor conferred upon him by Pius IX in raising him to the nobility and making him a Roman patrician. And in connec- tion with this last fact one circumstance is signifi- cant. When it became incumbent upon him to select his coat of arms, Tenerani informed the heralds that the device to be emblazoned upon his shield should be an oak tree growing up among thorns. This peculiar choice throws a flood of light upon Tenerani’s temperament, and confirms the impression which one forms quite indepen- dently upon reading his biography, as it has been 1 14 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. SO minutely and conscientiously written by Oreste Raggi. The sculptor who stands as the leader of Roman art during the middle of the century was not of a sanguine nature. He did not look upon things in general through a rose-colored medium, and the oak tree which had pushed its way up through briers doubtless represented with much accuracy the aspect which his life assumed to him as he regarded it in retrospect at the moment of his elevation to the Roman peerage. He was so consti- tuted that the hard rubs ground themselves deeply into his sensibilities ; and the amenities, of which there must have been many in his much-honored existence, left easily effaceable impressions. In northern and in central Italy, excepting the city and province of Rome, all of the sculptural product of the period of which I am now speaking seems to have been controlled by Bartolini. It would be unfair to say that Tenerani copied Bar- tolini, and I am convinced that any one who studies thoroughly the situation will grant to him the posi- tion of an independent force. It is possible, also, that Tenerani influenced the Neapolitan sculpture- product of this period. During all the early part of this century, Naples looked to Rome for guidance in art matters. While the classic style remained in favor, Camuccini was regarded as furnishing the standard of taste in graphic art and Canova in plastic; and after the death of the latter the sculp- tors of Naples may have looked upon Tenerani’s THE PERIOD OF TRANSITION. II5 work as offering the most valuable suggestions in point of style. Certain it is that there is a remark- able similarity of character in the series of statues of saints surrounding the rotunda of the modern church of S. Francesco di Paola at Naples, and that the keynote of the symphony is given by Tenerani’s statue of St. John, which stands directly at the left of the choir. Nevertheless, despite the supremacy of Tenerani at Rome, it was distinctly known there that Bar- tolini was a power, and it was even conceded, as Bartolini himself asserts in a letter written in 1847, that his doctrine had come to be recognized there as the new gospel. And in Tuscany his person- ality was so powerful that it forced the production of all the men of less assertive talents into virtual uniformity with his own work. The dead level of the Tuscan sculpture of the Bartolinian period is, at times, almost depressing. The series of statues which fill the niches of the portico of the Uthzi, and which were all, or nearly all, carved at this time, are, so far as the general observer can per- ceive, identical in style. Apparently they might all have been worked up in Bartolini s studio by pupils shaping their models under his direction. And even in the case of men of really exceptional talent, like Fedi and Dupre, — men who in certain instances produced imaginative work of much origi- nality, — all individuality and personality seemed to be extinguished when they undertook to model a Il6 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. portrait-statue. Within that field the Bartolinian formula was too strong for them. Luigi Pampaloni (born in 1791, died December 17, 1847), who was regarded as rather the leader of the Tuscan sculptors of this period after Bar- tolini himself, was probably a pupil of the latter in his youth. He was born at Florence, but for some reason pursued the whole or a part of his art studies at the Carrara Academy, and was a student at that institution at the time when Bartolini was professor. Pampaloni’s principal portrait-statues — the seated figures of Arnolfo and Brunelleschi in the niches of the Canonica at Florence (Piazza del Duomo) — while they show distinctly the influence of the new ideas of which Bartolini was the cham- pion, are not up to Bartolini’s level as works of art, being characterized by a sort of heaviness and excessive solidity which is not noticeable in the master’s own productions. In his portraits of con- temporaries, however, Pampaloni produced works so strongly resembling Bartolini’s that it is now almost impossible to tell them apart. The original models of a large number of busts by each of the two men are now arranged on shelves on either side of one of the long corridor-rooms in the monastery of S. Salvi at Florence, and without an inventory it would be impossible to distinguish the work of Pampaloni from that of his master. The younger sculptor first brought himself into notice about 1827, by a small and unpretentious work, representing a praying THE PERIOD OF TRANSITION. 117 child, which perhaps to his own surprise won him immediate popularity, not only with connoisseurs, but with the masses. In the original composition, which was intended to form part of the monument to the infant daughter of a Polish gentleman, there were two figures, but that of the kneeling boy proved the more popular. Copies in plaster were sold in great numbers, finding their way into the homes of the poorer classes, and a number of replicas were carved in marble : one of these last being now in the Tosio Gallery at Brescia, and another in the Palazzo Bianco at Genoa: Other works by Pampaloni are the statue of the Grand Duke Pietro Leopoldo, which stands in the umbra- geous Piazza S. Caterina at Pisa, the monument to Lazzaro Papi, the translator of Milton, in the ven- erable church of S. Frediano at Lucca, the Barto- linian figure of Leonardo da Vinci in the portico of the Uffizi, and the kneeling figure of the cantatrice Virginia De Blasis, singing an air from Bellini (“^ se mi urna e a 77 te concessa') as she kneels upon her own tomb in the cloister of S. Croce at Florence. The group of the Rape of Polyxena in the Loggia dei Lanzi at Florence, which is often mistaken for an antique, is the work of Pio Fedi, one of the lead- ing Tuscan sculptors of the generation which suc- ceeded that of Pampaloni. Fedi was born May 31, 1816, at Viterbo, and made his debut in art as a painter and engraver. Some trouble with his eyes, not unlikely produced by his work with the en- Il8 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. graver’s burin, compelled him to give up both of the arts to which he had first devoted himself, and to direct his attention to sculpture. In the work just referred to (the Rape of Polyxena) he con- fronted somewhat the same difficulties of technique which Bartolini undertook to surmount in his group of Pyrrhus and Astyanax, and seems to have suc- ceeded even better than his great predecessor. The Polyxena was in process of being carved in marble in 1862, but was not set in the place which it now occupies until several years later. None of Fedi’s other works, among those which are now to be seen in public places at Florence, equal the Polyxena in merit. The monument to the poet Niccolini in S. Croce is a comparatively inferior production, owing to the hard, mechanical regularity of the modelling, and the figures of Andrea Cesalpino and Niccolb Pisano in the portico of the Uffizi are not distinctly better than many other statues in the same series. Fedi died at Florence, June i, 1892. During his last years he suffered from paralysis, and accom- plished but little in his art.^ 1 Among the other sculptors of this period who are represented by works of some importance at Florence and in other parts of Tuscany are Ulisse Cambi (born at Florence September 22, 1807; died there April 8, 1895), author of the seated figure of Bishop Agostino Tinacci in the large niche in the buttress at the left of the central door of the Florence cathedral, of the statue of Benvenuto Cellini in the portico of the Uffizi, and of the statue of Francesco Burlamacchi in the Piazza S. Michele at Lucca; Odoardo Fantacchiotti (hovn at Florence in 1809; died in 1877), author of the statues of Boccaccio and of Francesco Accorso in the portico of the Uffizi, and of the monuments in S. Croce THE PERIOD OF TRANSITION. II9 Giovanni Dupre, who was of the same generation as Fedi, became much more celebrated than the latter, and, indeed, raised himself at one time upon such a pinnacle of fame that he could even stretch out his hand to Bartolini and salute him upon terms of equality. Dupre did not, however, feel the same perfect confidence in the correctness of his own opinions as Bartolini, and is not, like Bartolini, entitled to be ranked as a caposaiola in the fullest sense of the term. He was endowed with a gen- uinely exceptional artistic temperament, but was controlled in the expression of his ideas by the views of the men about him, and did not show that to Neri Corsini and Luigi Cherubini; Pasqtiale Rojnanelli (born at Florence March 28, 1812; now deceased), whose name is never men- tioned by Italian writers without the qualification of “best pupil of Bartolini,” and who completed the unfinished details of the Demidoflf monument, beside modelling the statue of Francesco Ferrucci in armor for the portico of the Ufiizi, and the colossal figure of the statesman Count Vittorio Fossombroni for the square now called the Piazza Um- berto at Arezzo ; and Salvino Salvini (born at Leghorn March 26, 1824), author of the fine statue of Cardinal Valerian! in the niche in the buttress at the extreme left of the front of the Florence cathedral, and of the statues of Giovanni and Niccolb Pisano in the Camposanto at Pisa, the former at the west end and the latter at the east end of the enclosure. I must mention here, also, the name of Vijicenzio Consanij — although somewhat younger than the men of whom I have been speaking — the author of a much-admired figure of Victory in the third room of the picture gallery at the Pitti Palace, of the statue of the botanist Pier Antonio Micheli in the portico of the Uffizi, of the statue of Paolo Savi in the Camposanto at Pisa, of the bust of the archi- tect De Fabris placed near that of Arnolfo inside of the southwestern door of the cathedral at Florence, and of the colossal statue of Pope Eugenius IV in the large niche in the buttress between the central and southern doors of the new facade of the same church 120 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. independence of his environment which constitutes one of the essential qualities of leadership. Dupre sprang directly from the people/ was with- out culture, and never succeeded in any of his at- tempts at producing a learned form of art. What he did have, by way of compensation, was a warm heart and an abnormally developed emotional nat- ure. No man of his time was more acutely sympa- thetic ; and in the instances where he limited his art-expression to subjects where the vivid represen- tation of gentle, compassionate human feelings was all that was required he succeeded, and succeeded wonderfully. 1 The principal dates and facts of Dupre’s career, taken from his autobiography, are the following: March i, 1817, born at Siena in a street which has since been named for him; 1821, family removed to Florence, which continued to be Dupre’s residence for the rest of his life; 1832-1840, worked in the shop of the wood-carver, Paolo Sani ; 1837, commenced study of drawing under Luigi Magi; 1840, worked for a while in the studio of the sculptor Ulisse Cambi ; 1842, date of recumbent figure of Abel (first great work), sold to Russian imperial family and now in museum at St. Petersburg, replica in bronze in Sala della Stufa, Pitti Palace, small replica in marble in Royal Palace, Turin; 1843, statue of Cain, bronze, in Sala della Stufa, Pitti Palace; 1844, statue of Giotto in portico of Uffizi; same year, statue of Pope Pius II in church of S. Agostino, Siena; 1850, statue of Sant’ An- tonino in portico of Uffizi; 1856, journey to London to submit model in competition for Wellington monument, model not successful; 1862, successful bas-relief of Triumph of the Cross over the central door of S. Croce at Florence ; 1862-1863, Pieta, second great work, grande medaille d’honneur at Paris exposition of 1867, original nowin the Bichi-Rus- poli chapel in the Camposanto at Siena; 1866-1873, Cavour monument at Turin ; 1879, published his autobiography under the title of Pen- sieri sull’ Arte e Ricordi autobiografici ; 1881, statue of St. Francis in the Piazza S. Rufino at Assisi ; January 10, 1882, died at Florence. THE PERIOD OF TRANSITION. I2I I need only refer to his two great works — the re- cumbent figure of Abel, completed in 1842, and the Pieta, completed in 1863 — as proof of this state- ment. Abel, as he has represented him, is a beauti- ful youth, dying with suffering and compassion im- printed upon his face. He dies as a noble soul dies, the agony of the flesh yielding before the over- mastering emotions of pitying compassion for his slayer. The most modern form of art, the form which Vela popularized, would have represented Abel as a semi-savage, a product of primitive civili- zation, and would have taken its model for the struct- ure of the body and head from the skeletons found in the abodes of the cave-dwellers. Dupre would have opened his eyes in wonderment at the thought of pursuing any such course. Why, he would say, should an artist go out of his way for the sake of making his work ugly and repulsive.^ He found the psychical model for the soul of Abel in his own nature ; he made him look as he himself would have looked if he had died Abel’s death. And he gave him the most beautiful form, figure, and face which he could find in any Florentine model. The copying of his living parallel was, I may add, so exact in this particular case that the youth was instantly recognized ; and he was not only recog- nized, but examined and measured for the purpose of determining whether Dupre had not, by an abuse of the processes of sculpture, reproduced the form of the model mechanically by the help of a mould and a plaster cast. 122 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. In his other great work, the Pieta of 1863, Dupre did not arrive so unhesitatingly at his final result as in the case of the Abel. On the contrary, the group cost him great mental suffering — almost mental agony. His health gave way under the strain. He despaired of giving to the face of the Madonna the expression of pity which he considered it essential to impress upon it, and the daily contemplation of a result which he felt to be inadequate at length brought on a complete paralysis of his energies. Physicians to whom he had recourse for advice wisely counselled him to drop his work entirely for a while and leave Florence. He accordingly made a journey to Rome and Naples and upon his return, after an absence of three months, found that his work was most perfect in the very particular in which he had before judged it most defective. He burst into tears — as he says in his memoirs — on finding how completely he had been misled by his morbid fears of failure. The face of his Madonna, he said, seemed to look at him with infinite com- passion ; he could not but recognize that he had achieved a remarkable success where three months before he had felt himself confronted with a wretched failure. Without changing a line of the Madonna’s features, he left the clay as it stood, and had it carved in marble without a single alteration. In what he himself says about this remarkable work, Dupre dwells only upon the expression of the figures, and says nothing about the harmony of the FROM THE MARBLE BY DUPRE IN THE CIMITERO DELLA MISERICORDIA SIENA % <5 n < 1 THE PERIOD OF TRANSITION. 123 lines. I feel myself that part of the beauty of the work lies in the repetition or parallelism of some of the planes. The Madonna s left arm duplicates the pose of the left arm of the Christ ; her right arm and the outer line of the draperies passing over her head fall into perfect unison with the line of the upper arm and of the hair of the figure over which she bends in such an agony of pitying, querying protest. Dupre may have arrived at these results without the slightest conscious trickery. The mere repetition of curves and contours, which is often so effective in plastic compositions, giving to the eye somewhat the sense of perfect harmony which octaves give to the ear, may not have been in any sense calculated. But whether arrived at by instinct or by design, it is impossible not to realize that this parallelism has had something to do with the beauty of the work as a whole. Dupre lived almost the life of a child from first to last. His memoirs, a delightful volume of personal recollections, show this clearly ; and the story of his life, as illustrated by his works, would show it independently. He was almost wholly untaught, and in his youth simply felt the same instinctive love of the beautiful which was felt by Canova before his migration to Rome. When he asked Bartolini to give him his opinion on his first work, — the recumbent statue of Abel, — the great sculptor simply said, “ It shows that you are not a pupil of the academies.” The other fact already alluded 24 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. to — that the enemies of the rising artist charged him with having modelled his figure directly from the living form — shows again that he began naively as a naturalist, depicting the beautiful as he saw it. After he had begun to succeed, the doctrinaires crowded around him and clamorously told him what and how to do ; and for a while he was bewildered by their talk. He began to have a feeling that it was necessary to have a theory, and developed one which he called the search for the “ beautiful in the true.” What was taught him was simply the doc- trine of purism, and it proved hurtful to him, ham- pering the free development of his talent. Between the Abel in 1842 and the Pieta in 1863, he made little progress. The statue of Cain, with which he followed his first work, was a semi-failure. People at Florence wittily said that Abel had killed Cain. The period of depression through which he passed, while weighted down with theories, corresponded with the period of general depression for the arts, and before he had redeemed himself by the success of the Pieta, he had almost completely lost heart. The success of 1863 placed him on his feet again, and from that time until his death (January 10, 1882), he did not lack for friends and admirers, or for finam cial encouragement. Unfortunately, in 1865 or 1866, he was persuaded to undertake the modelling of the Cavour monument, which the city of Turin pro- posed to erect to the great statesman whose skill as a diplomatist had done so much for the Italian THE PERIOD OF TRANSITION. 125 cause ; and in his efforts to acquit himself credit- ably of this task he succeeded very imperfectly. He knew himself that his gentle, sympathetic nat- ure did not fit him for the proper execution of a work calling for large, imposing conceptions, and he was most unwise to undertake it. He says, in his memoirs, that it was the urgent request of a certain lady which finally induced him to accept the proposal of the city of Turin, in the face of his own better judgment. One can hardly help wishing to know the name of the “gentile e nobilissima signora,” who in this way became responsible for the great mistake of Dupre’s career, and for the execution of the work which all but destroyed his reputation. In the last year of his life, Dupre completed the model of the statue of St. Francis, which now stands in the Piazza S. Rufino at Assisi. He had also ex- ecuted a sketch-model of a colossal figure of S. Zanobi for the new fa9ade of the cathedral at Flor- ence, but did not carry the work any farther ; and the full-sized model was completed by his daughter Amalia, and carved in marble under her direction. Of Dupre’s admirable qualities as a man, not too much can be said. His best monument is the vol- ume of his memoirs, a book which is rendered re- markable, not only by the naive grace with which it is composed, but by the circumstance that, at the age of seventeen, its author could barely read and write. Sculptural art at Genoa, during the period of 126 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. which I am now speaking, is represented by the well-known Columbus monument in the Piazza Ac- quaverde, one of the most pleasing in its ensemble of any out-of-door monument erected in Italy dur- ing the present century. The general design, which is the most creditable part of the work, was furnished by the Cavaliere Michele Canzio, professor of deco- rative design in the Genoa Academy of Fine Arts, and was selected from a number of competitive proj- ects by the Academy of Fine Arts at Milan, which had been made the judge in the competition. The plan of erecting this tribute to the great navigator was formed by a committee of Genoese citizens,- with the approval of King Carlo Alberto of Sardinia, and the foundations were laid in the year 1846. The statues which decorate the monument were not the work of one sculptor, but of several. The modelling of the principal group, that upon the summit of the central shaft, representing Columbus resting his hand upon an anchor, with an allegorical figure of America by his side, was first entrusted to Bartolini, and that the latter gave some thought to it is indicated by the expression of his views at con- siderable length on the subject in a letter written in 1846. The group remaining unfinished at the time of Bartolini’s death in 1850, the completion of it was entrusted to Pietro Freccia, a somewhat obscure artist, born at Castelnuovo di Sarzana, near Spezia, July 26, 1814, who is known by no other important work. Freccia died July 22, 1856, when he had COLUMBUS MONUMENT FROM THE MARBLES BY BARTOLINI, FRECCIA, AND OTHERS, IN THE PIAZZA ACQUAVERDE, GENOA V s' I--' ' ^ v’ *'T. . <;■< ( K-^J k ■ 'V. •• ■ 1 THE PERIOD OF TRANSITION. 27 barely finished his model, leaving it to be carved in marble by other hands. It appears from Bartolini’s written comments on the monument-project that he wished Canzio to give up the idea of the high cir- cular pedestal decorated with the prows of ships, which would certainly have been an unfortunate alteration, inasmuch as the prows are very decora- tive and perfectly in character with the subject. Of the other sculptors who contributed statues and bas-reliefs for the decoration of the monument, four were Ligurians and two were Tuscans;^ and amono: them all there is no one man who is entitled to be placed quite on a plane of equality with Tenerani and Dupre. Santo Varni, however, who carved the colossal figure of Religion standing at one of the angles of the pedestal, became the official head of the group of Ligurian sculptors in 1866, or earlier, by virtue of his accession to the directorship of the school of sculpture in the Academy; and he is also entitled to be given a leading place among the Geno- ese artists of this period in view of the exceptionally larcre number of his works. A word or two of bioo:- raphy is certainly due to Santo Varni, and I there- ^ The Ligurians were Salvatore Revelli, author of the bas-relief repre- senting Columbus in chains before Bobadilla ; Giuseppe Gaggini, author of the colossal figure of Astronomy and the relief representing Colum- bus at the Council of Salamanca; Giovanni Battista Cevasco, author of the relief representing Columbus before Ferdinand and Isabella ; and Santo Varni, whose share in the work is stated in the text. The Tuscans were Emilio Santarelli, author of the colossal figure of Force; and Aristodemo Costoli, author of the colossal figure of Pru- dence, and of the relief represenling the landing of Columbus. 128 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. fore note here that he was born at Genoa in 1807, that he studied wood-carving under a certain Angelo Olivari, and the art of sculpture in marble under Bartolomeo Carrea, besides attending the classes in the Academy ; that as early as 1827 he had modelled a bas-relief in plaster in the classic style, represent- ing the Triumph of Marcellus, which was regarded as a creditable work, and that he soon afterward set out from Genoa to perfect his talent by travel and study in other cities. During his travels he passed some time at Florence and Rome, and while at Flor- ence had some more or less intimate relations with Bartolini, who gave him advice and encouragement. Returning to his native city he began to practise his art seriously, and I believe from the first with a fair degree of success, though to judge from the dates of his works he did not begin to be very actively engaged until after the completion of the Gropallo monument in 1855. A bas-relief of the Madonna and Saints in the Serra chapel in the church of the Annunziata is the only work which is definitely mentioned as antedating the Gropallo commission. So far as Varni’s sepulchral monu- ments are concerned, I speak with limited appreci- ation, because I find the marble memorials to the dead which fill the niches of the famous Genoese Camposanto as a rule unsympathetic, suggest- ing too much a desire for display and too little an elevated, refined, sober taste. Varni’s productions in this genre are by no means so sensa- THE PERIOD OF TRANSITION. 129 tional and so bourgeois as those of some of his contemporaries, but the affiliation is nevertheless obvious and sufficient to create in one’s mind a slight prejudice against them. His other works are, so far as I am aware, wholly free from objec- tionable features. The figure of Religion (1863), which he carved for the Columbus monument, is elevated in sentiment, and graceful as well as stately in its lines, and the statue of Emanuele Filiberto (1866), which stands on the staircase of the Royal Palace at Turin, is a noble and imposing example of royal portraiture. One of his small imaginative compositions. Amove che doma la forza, is now in the public collection at the Palazzo Bianco in Genoa. The sculptors who stood at the head of the Milanese school during this period were Marches! and Cacciatori. Marchesi, whose career was re- viewed in a previous chapter, held the professor- ship of sculpture at the Milan Academy until 1853, when he was succeeded by the other artist whose name I have just mentioned. Benedetto Caccia- tori was born at Carrara in 1 794 and was the son of Lodovico Cacciatori, a professor of decorative design in the Carrara Academy. It is stated that the younger Cacciatori studied sculpture under Bartolini, and this may very likely have been true, inasmuch as Bartolini’s professorship extended from about 1807 until 1814, that is to say from Caccia- tori’s thirteenth to his twentieth year. He did not, 130 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. however, begin his own personal work with his mind fresh from Bartolini’s training; for he left Carrara while he was still a young man, and, establishing him- self at Milan, formed very close relations with Camillo Pacetti, becoming his pupil and later his son-in-law. Pacetti dying in 1826 while he had in his studio a still unfinished statue of Apollo commissioned by Maria Cristina of Sardinia, wife of King Carlo Felice, his pupil completed the work, and was afterward employed by Carlo Felice and his suc- cessor (after 1831), Carlo Alberto, in the execution of a number of important commissions. The former of these two sovereigns conceived the idea of effect- ing some restorations at the Abbey of Haute-Combe on the Lake of Bourget, the burial-place of the princes of the House of Savoy, and being exception- ally pleased by a sketch-model of a Pieta submitted by Cacciatori entrusted much of the work to him. Assisted by his father and brothers, who contributed the architectural and decorative accessories, Caccia- tori did much for the restoration of the sculptural work in the abbey and is credited with several orig- inal creations: the Pieta just referred to, a Ma- donna of the Angels, and a seated statue of Charles Felix being among them. Still continuing in the service of the Sardinian kings, he carved the monu- ment of Amedeo VI 1 1 which occupies a niche in the chapel of the Sudario behind the high altar of the Turin cathedral, and which introduces five full-length figures beside a fine relief representing THE PERIOD OF TRANSITION. 131 the meeting of Amadeus and the Archbishop of Chambery. At Milan, Cacciatori found not a little work to do, prior to 1838, in assisting in the decoration of the Arch of Peace, carving the two river gods, rep- resenting the Po and the Ticino, which crown the entablature on the side toward the city, and the principal bas-relief over the lower left-hand arch representing the entry of the Austrian emperor and empress into Milan. Those who examine these works, and then examine the statue of the Marquis Luigi Cagnola, architect of the Arch of Peace, in the courtyard of the Brera, will have the two ex- tremes of Cacciatori’s style. The river gods and the bas-relief are purely classic, as the style of the arch demanded. The statue of Cagnola, on the other hand, lacks very little of being as purely modern in sentiment as the statues of Piola and Grossi by Vela on the opposite side of the court- yard. The architect wears long full trousers which hang in folds from the knees, and his swallow- tailed coat is drawn so tightly together that the cloth pulls away in creases at the buttons. The face is wrinkled and not artificially beautified, the heavy lines under the eyes furnishing an indication of the fidelity of the portrait. The statue is dated 1849 on the pedestal, and is sufficient in itself alone to disprove the assertions that its author was a fos- sil, unable to infuse any new ideas into his art or to escape from the fetters of his early training. 132 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. Upon the reorganization of the Milan Academy in i860, after the expulsion of the Austrians from Lombardy, Cacciatori was retired from his position as professor of sculpture, and two younger men, Strazza and Magni, were appointed in his place. Giovanni Strazza was a pupil of Tenerani, and an interesting review of his career will be found in Raggi’s life of that master. He was born in 1815 and died in 1878. Pietro Magni (1817-1877) was a pupil of the Milan Academy and of Abbondio Sangiorgio. His style, however, resembles closely that of Bartolini. Magni s principal work is the monument to Leo- nardo da Vinci in the Piazza della Scala at Milan. Cacciatori died in retirement at Carrara, September 25, 1871. He is commemorated at the Brera by a marble bust in the upper portico showing a man with a long serious face, much more suggestive of the English than of the Italian type. The fine statue of Pacetti by Bayer, which stands upon a landing of the stairway leading to the upper portico of the Brera, appears from an inscription on the pedestal to have been carved at the expense of Cacciatori and to have been presented by him to the Academy. It is obvious from the number of commissions given by the Sardinian government to Cacciatori, Varni, and other artists resident at Milan, Genoa, and elsewhere that the group of sculptors perma- nently established at Turin during the period of which I am now speaking could not have been a THE PERIOD OF TRANSITION. 133 very numerous or a very strong one. Indeed, almost the only Piedmontese sculptor of this generation who showed himself the possessor of a talent of the very highest order was Carlo Marochetti ; and Maro- chetti passed almost his whole life abroad, finding too little that was congenial in the surroundings of his native town to induce him to return and settle there after he had completed his education. Born at Turin in 1805, his early life was passed princi- pally in France, and his first systematic instruction in art was received at Paris under Bosio and Gros. As a French art student he competed for the prix de Rome, and failing to win that much-coveted prize he made a journey to Italy at his own expense and passed the greater part of the eight years be- tween 1822 and 1830 in the eternal city. He con- tinued, however, to keep his eyes fixed upon Paris as the place of his future residence, and had already (1829) made his debut at the Salon with a plastic group representing a young girl playing with a dog, before his studies at Rome were completed. The equestrian statue of Duke Emanuele Fili- berto of Savoy (representing him as sheathing his sword after the victory over the French at St. Quentin in 1557), which established Marochetti s reputation both at Paris and in Italy, was commis- sioned by King Carlo Alberto of Sardinia about a year after he ascended the throne (1831). The work, when finished in bronze, was placed in the Piazza S. Carlo at Turin, one of the enlargements 134 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. of the narrow Via Roma, the main thoroughfare from the railway station to the royal palace. Strangers usually imagine it to be the work of one of the great sculptors of the renaissance, so widely does it differ from most of the equestrian statues of the modern period. As I have already intimated, the work scored an immediate success, both with the general public and the connoisseurs. The former were pleased by the fire and dash in the movement of the figure and its association with a great popular hero ; and the latter liked it because it had something of the mediaeval spirit, and seemed like a plastic exposition of the then novel principles of romanticism. King Charles Albert bestowed upon the sculptor the rank of baron in recognition of the exceptional talent displayed in this work, and Marochetti wore his title with becoming dignity to the end of his days. Many years later, about i860, he was com- missioned to model an equestrian statue of Charles Albert himself, and designed the monument which was subsequently erected in the Piazza Carlo Al- berto at Turin. The second undertaking was far more ambitious than the first, including as it did eight subsidiary figures beside the equestrian statue ; but it never had any such success as the earlier work. The prosaic character of the modern uni- form, the simple parade-attitude of the king, and the uninspiring character of the whole composition left the public apathetic and indifferent. Connois- THE PERIOD OF TRANSITION. 135 seurs recognized then, and still recognize, its less obvious merits, and give it an honored place be- cause of its reserve, its suppression of the sensa- tional and extravagant, and its revelation of the niceties of taste of a sculptor who felt strong enough to dispense with the approval of the masses. During the period of nearly thirty years interven- ing between the dates of these two Italian works, Marochetti executed a large number of French and English commissions. He resided in France from 1832 until 1848, and then removed to England, where he remained for the better part of the rest of his life. During his last years he passed a por- tion of his time in France, and died at Passy (Paris), December 29, 1867. Among his French commis- sions may be mentioned the relief representing the Battle of Jemappes, high up on the south side of the Arc de Triomphe de I’Etoile at Paris, the eques- trian statue of the Duke of Orleans at Versailles, and the sculptural decorations of the high altar of the church of the Madeleine, representing the Mag- dalen borne to heaven by angels. He became one of the particular proteges of Louis Philippe, and his abandonment of France in 1848 was due to the fall of that monarch. His removal to England, however, led to no diminution of his activities, but, on the contrary, to an increase of his prosperity. He was kept so busily employed filling public com- missions that he found little time for works of im- 136 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. agination, the Sappho, modelled about 1850, being one of the few productions of this description which appear in the list of his compositions. Among the public monuments of which he is the author, may be mentioned the equestrian statues of Queen Vic- toria and the Prince Consort in George Square at Glasgow, and the equestrian statue of Wellington before the Royal Exchange, in the same city. There is also a statue of James Oswald, by the same sculptor, in George Square, making four im- portant works by Marochetti in one Scotch city. Other works modelled by Marochetti in England are the statue of Richard Coeur de Lion near the entrance to the House of Lords at Westminster, the statue of Lord Clyde in Waterloo Place, the bust of Thackeray in Westminster Abbey, the monument of the Princess Elizabeth, daughter of Charles I, in the church at Newport on the Isle of Wight, and the equestrian statue of Washington (in plaster), which was destroyed by fire in the New York Crys- tal Palace of 1853, and of which the Metropolitan Museum (New York) has a preliminary study. CHAPTER IV. THE DEVELOPMENT OF NATURALISM IN THE WORK OF VINCENZO VELA. Vela’s place among Italian sculptors. — New ideas introduced in his work. — Comments of David d’Angers on his methods. — Injustice of these comments. — Vela’s early life in the canton Ticino. — His brother Lorenzo assists him to find work at Milan. — He becomes the pupil of Cacciatori. — He sees a famous work of Bartolini and is perhaps influenced by it. — He makes a pilgrimage to Rome and mo els a figure of Spartacus which creates a sensation when exhib- ited, later, at Milan. — It is followed after a brief interval by other works. — Novel principles introduced in the statue of Francesco Carloni. — The work an obscure one, but of vital importance as an affirmation of its author’s principles. — Anecdote relative to the figure of Desolation. — Vela is persecuted by the Austrian authorities at Milan and compelled to leave the city. — Accepting an invitation of the Sardinian government he removes to Turin and becomes an instructor in the official art school there. — Works modelled by Vela at Turin. — The group of the Two Queens. — The statue of Charles Albert on the grand staircase of the royal palace. — Statues at Milan, at Bologna, at Genoa, at Padua. — Vela determines to be properly represented at the Paris exposition of 1867, and selects a French subject. — His statue of Napoleon I. — His fears lest it should fail, and the triumph of the work when finally exhibited. — Comments on this work. — Vela’s residence at Turin is brought to a close. — He returns to his early home at Ligornetto, and passes the remainder of his life there. — The Brunswick monu- ment. — The Victims of Toil. — Conclusion. At this point it becomes necessary to consider somewhat in detail the career of Vincenzo Vela, 137 138 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. one of the most important figures in the art-history of the century. Vela’s express function seems to have been to take up the theories of Bartolini where he left them, and to carry them to their logical conclu- sions. Bartolini refused to continue the practice of the classicists in taking the antique as the model for the human figure, and insisted on referring to nature as the final standard. But Bartolini was tenacious of classic drapery, and remained defiantly an idealist on that point to the end of his life. Vela saw the inconsistency of this position, and applied to drapery the same principles which Bartolini had applied to the figure. He also went much farther than Bartolini in the literal imitation of the figure, and modelled the hair and the flesh of his statues in such a manner as to make them look as if they had been cast in a mould taken from life. David d’An- gers, one of the best known of the French sculptors of the first half of the present century, visited Vela’s studio in the course of a journey made by him to Italy, and he was so much struck by this last pe- culiarity of Vela’s work as to be convinced that the Italian sculptor must have cast portions of his statues in moulds taken directly from life, a practice which professional opinion condemns as illegitimate. It is a fact that Vela took moulds from life to serve him as models, and as data for working up his com- positions and giving them as life-like an appearance as possible; but I do not believe that in any instance VINCENZO VELA. 139 he ever introduced one of these fragmentary models unchanged in any of his finished sculptural works. The technical difficulties of making a fact fit to a fiction would have been considerable, and, further- more, Vela’s conscientiousness and his convictions as to what was legitimate and what was illegitimate in his art were quite as profound as those of David d’Ano;ers himself. Like all the leading Italian sculptors of the century. Vela was born in conditions which reduced him practically to the condition of a peasant, and must have grown up almost illiterate. It is per- fectly proper to call him an Italian sculptor, because he was Italian by race and by instincts, although his birthplace (Ligornetto) lay within the limits of the canton Ticino, and made him, strictly speaking, a Swiss subject. The date of his birth is, I believe, not exactly known, but is assigned by his. biographer, Augusto Guidini,^ to the month of May, 1820. The first ascertainable fact of his boyhood is that he was set to work, when still a child, as a stone-cutter’s apprentice, in the quarries of Bersazio, near his own home, and that he remained there until he was twelve or thirteen years old. When he had arrived at about that age, that is to say, in 1S32 or 1833, his older brother Lorenzo (afterward a professor at the Milan Academy) found a place for him with a marble worker named Franzi, who had a bottegci ^ The Commendatore Guidini’s monograph on Vincenzo Vela was published at Como in 1893. 140 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. near the cathedral at Milan; and in this way he was enabled to leave the canton Ticino and establish himself in a place where there were better oppor- tunities for obtaining an education. By the terms of the agreement entered into between Lorenzo Vela and Franzi, Vincenzo was to be allowed two hours a day for study, so that his regular professional education began immediately upon his arrival at Milan. After staying a short time with Franzi, the younger Vela was removed from the bottega altogether, and allowed to devote all of his time to study, receiving instruction in draw- ing from Luigi Sabatelli, and in modelling from Benedetto Cacciatori. Sabatelli, as the reader may see by turning to the pages farther on in this volume where his career is reviewed, was a man educated under classic masters, but somewhat affected by the changes in taste which had taken place in the inter- val between the completion of his early studies and the date when Vela came under his influence. The same thing may be said of Cacciatori. Neither of these men had wholly cut loose at this time from the old moorings ; but it is equally true that neither of them was disposed to hold his pupils up rigidly to the artistic principles to which they had them- selves been educated. Vela had what may be called a semi-liberal education — one which both looked forward and looked backward. It was, perhaps, predominantly conservative, but in this particular it was like the education which all young artists re- VINCENZO VELA. 141 ceive who go to an institution where art is sys- tematically taught. Professors always belong to an older generation than that of their pupils, and, as a matter of course, their tendency will be to dwell more emphatically on the principles by which they have made themselves strong than upon the untried ideas whose permanent value seems to them still open to question. The only particularly notable incidents in Vela’s education appear to have been his coming in con- tact, at a time not precisely ascertainable, with the Fiducia in Dio of Bartolini at the Poldi-Pezzoli palace in Milan, and the winning of the govern- ment prize in the academic competition in sculpture thrown open to all art pupils of the Lombard- Venetian provinces of Austria in 1838. The work of Bartolini just referred to was probably removed from Bartolini’s studio to Milan in 1835 or 1836, and there is no reason why Vela may not have seen it soon after its arrival. He was just the sort of man to be impressed by a work of this description, and to be led off by it into a new channel, because he was an artist who was content to work by him- self according to whatever idea impressed him as valuable, regardless of what the multitude thought or what the sculptural profession as a whole prac- tised. He was of a silent, taciturn, almost secretive, nature. To get out of the beaten track and into some side path where he could move along by himself unobserved — so long as he could feel a 142 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. conviction that in the end he was going to come out ahead of those who kept in the main highway — -was a pleasure to him. Bartolini’s work is said to have shown to him, for the first time, that an Italian sculptor had dared to depart from the classic formula and model his figures according to nature. Xhe break with tradition and custom pleased the younger artist, and he determined to adopt the new principles as his own. Between 1838 and 1848 Vela stood nearly sta- tionary. Momentarily he emerged from his obscur- ity in successfully executing a commission for a statue of Bishop Luini for the city of Lugano, a work which the distinguished painter, Francesco Hayez, in a fragmentary biographical note jotted down by Andrea Maffei, pronounced a “ miracle of sculpture.” The miracle did no more, however, to bring the young artist into permanent and profit- able publicity than the bas-relief which had secured the first prize in the government competition above referred to. And a statue of a praying child, which he completed about 1846 for Duke Litta of Milan, despite the importance of securing the approval of so distinguished a patron, failed also to place the artist firmly upon his feet. In 1847 Vela managed in some way to obtain the means to make a journey to Rome, and stopped on his way at Leghorn, where he saw the finely designed statues of slaves in chains on the base of the statue of Ferdinand I, the work of Pietro VINCENZO VELA. 143 Tacca, a pupil of John of Bologna. Arriving in Rome he obtained for himself some sort of a poor workroom, dignified by the name of a studio, and modelled there the standing figure of the gladiator Spartacus, which afterward made him famous. Before he had been long at Rome (November, 1847), the war of the Sonderbund — a brief strug- gle between the protestant and catholic parties in Switzerland — broke out, and being suddenly seized with a desire to enter the armed conflict himself, he abandoned his studio and returned to his native Swiss canton. The war, which flamed up and sub- sided like a blaze of paper, was nearly or quite over when he arrived, and its only permanent effect on his own career was that it suddenly and finally ter- minated his studies at Rome. The model of the statue of Spartacus, which was boxed up and sent to Milan at the time of its author’s hasty departure from the papal city, lay in a storehouse during the period of political turmoil which extended from the revolution of the Five Days to the date of the reentry of the Austrian authorities into Milan. When peace was restored. Vela removed the model from its case, repaired the injuries which it had suffered in transit, and carved it in marble upon a commission from Duke Litta. Either in the marble or in the plaster model the work became known to some of Vela’s admirers before the close of the year 1849, as appears from the date of one of the sonnets addressed to it, but 144 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. it was not exhibited at the Brera until 1851. The work when finally made public created a great sensation, and was more talked of than any statue which had been shown at Milan for years. The notoriety which it secured to the sculptor was, of course, extremely valuable to him from a material point of view, inasmuch as it promised a steady succession of commissions in the years which were to follow. And it was also of some moral signifi- cance because of the encouragement which it gave him to continue his progress along independent lines. Several works were produced between the date of the one just referred to and Vela’s removal to Turin in 1852 — among them being a seated figure of a mourning woman called La Desolazione} now in the grounds of the Villa Gabrini at Lugano, a statue of William Tell, also at Lugano on the lake front near the Hotel du Parc, and a figure of the patriot, Francesco Carloni, now in the garden of 1 An anecdote is connected with this work which it is rather diffi- cult to credit. Vela, it is said, had the idea of the figure in his mind, but no model to give him the requisite pose and expression. He was at that time engaged to be married and it occurred to him that he might obtain a valuable suggestion by going to the home of his fiancee and telling her without any preliminaries that all was over between them. According to the story the young girl upon hearing this rude announcement fell into the attitude of desolation now perpetuated in the marble figure ; but one’s disposition to accept this anecdote as true is limited by the fact that a score of stories of this nature are attached to the name of every famous Italian artist, and further by the improba- bility that this particular artist would have selected his fiancee as the subject of any such brutal experiment in psychical vivisection. VINCENZO VELA. 145 the Villa Guidini at Barbengo. In the statue of Carloni, Vela affirmed his principles more dis- tinctly than in any of his earlier productions by literally representing an individual, reproducing (as I understand it) the actual man in face and figure, and giving his military dress precisely as he wore it. He selected an attitude, also, which involved a further affirmation of his principles, showing the soldier in the act of stepping forward with his carbine in his hand ready to be raised to his shoul- der at a moment’s notice. In a great many ways such a work as this was clearly differentiated from the work of Bartolini ; for example, in the central idea of the action, destitute as it was of repose ; in the literal reproduction of the face and figure of one man, without any selection of phy- sically beautiful traits from different models ; in the angularity of the position, frankly avowed and not softened down by any rounding of the contours ; and finally in the careful copying of modern mili- tary uniform with the unsculpturesque accessory of the carbine. Bartolini was, as I have already stated, irreconcilably opposed to the use of modern costume and modern accessories, and would un- doubtedly have characterized this particular work of Vela’s as wholly lacking in sculpturesque beauty if he could have seen it. Early in 1852 Vela was offered the title of hon- orary member of the Academy of Fine Arts at Milan, and declined it on the ground that the 146 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. Academy being then a government institution con- trolled by the Austrians, he could not, consistently with his principles as a patriot, accept it. The honor may possibly have been offered him as a test of his loyalty ; at any rate, very soon after his refusal was made known, he was ordered to leave Milan, and having no alternative but to comply with the sentence he retired to Ligornetto. Later in the year came an offer of the professorship of sculpt- ure in the Academy at Turin, and he wisely ac- cepted it, removing to the scene of his new duties before the middle of December, 1852. He remained at Turin until as late as 1867,'and the fifteen years or more which he spent there were the busiest of his life. He received a large number of commis- sions, and sent out from his studio a small army of statues to stand in public squares, in churches, and in cemeteries — for we cannot wholly overlook this latter division of his work — all over northern Italy. I confess frankly that many of these works, more particularly the statues of public men, possess very little interest. Even if one looks at them with the greatest desire to be pleased, they fail to arouse any very distinct sense of enjoyment — any such agree- able sensations, for example, as one experiences in the presence of Gemito’s Meissonier, of Rivalta’s Nic- colini, or of Dal Zotto s Goldoni. The figure of the Aljiere, or color-bearer, which stands on a pedestal in the midst of the great square in the heart of the VINCENZO VELA. 147 city of Turin, seems too small for the place assigned to it, and strikes one as slightly commonplace when examined from near at hand. The same quality of commonplaceness appears in the statue of Doc- tor Gallo at the University and of Cesare Balbo in the small park at the intersection of the Via Cavour and the Via dell’ Accademia Albertina. The two ideal figures — that of Venice, forming part of the Manin monument in the same enclosure, and of Minerva in the Gallery of Modern Art, at Turin — also seem tinctured by the same unpleasant element of banalite. Upon the group of the Two Queens (mother and wife of Victor Emmanuel) at the church of the Consolata I should not make the same com- ment. The idea underlying the work was new when the sculptor brought it forward, and has not been repeated since then. But for some inexplica- ble reason the group impresses one as slightly crude in the general conception and lacking in the qualities of spiritual elevation which we should expect to find in the marble images of two queens kneeling in prayer. My judgment upon these works may be entirely unwarranted ; but it is genuinely felt, and I leave it as I have stated it. Among all the works of Vela at Turin, I found most impressive the one which is perhaps least characteristic — the statue of Carlo Alberto — on the grand staircase of the royal palace. The father of Victor Emmanuel had an abnormally tall and slender figure — the very opposite of that of his son. 148 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. Possibly for the sake of concealing the ungainliness of his form Vela threw about his shoulders an em- broidered mantle which descends in rich folds to his feet and drapes his whole person. These drap- eries give an air of great dignity to the statue ; they also impart to it, if I may say so, a certain decorative character rarely present in Vela’s pro- ductions ; and in the more essential particulars of expression the work is all that could be desired. The face is noble, dignified, truly royal, — a worthy perpetuation of the features of the great martyr to the cause of Italian unity. Other works by Vela belonging to this same period, which are now in places easily accessible, are the statues of the poet Tommaso Gross! and the mathematician Gabrio Piola, in the courtyard of the Brera at Milan, of Dante and Giotto in the Loggia Amulea at Padua, of Joachim Murat at the Certosa at Bologna, and of Cavour in the Exchange at Genoa. I believe these statues to be, in each case, literal reproductions of the face, figure, and dress of the men whom they represent, so far as the sculptor was able to secure literalness in his work with the data at his command. The statue of Cavour looks almost like an instantaneous photograph turned into marble ; and there is a distinctly photo- graphic quality also in the representation of Grossi. In the case of the statues of Dante and Giotto, we have, of course, something quite removed from the commonplace, the modern, and the familiar. These VINCENZO VELA. 149 two mediaeval characters are dressed in the costume of their day, and this circumstance, as well as the fact that they represent persons universally known, has made them rather more popular than any of the other works which I have mentioned. The most successful work of Vela’s whole career - — the statue of Napoleon which has stood for so many years in the centre of the Salle du Sacre at Versailles — dates from the year 1867, and was the last important work modelled during the sculptor’s residence at Turin. As is well known Vela repre- sented the emperor as seated in an armchair with a pillow behind his back and the coverlet of a bed spread over his knees. His idea was to show him as he appeared a few days before his death, physi- cally nearly at his lowest ebb, but still in the full possession of his intellectual powers and still proudly rebellious against the men and nations who had robbed him of his power. He has a map of Europe spread out upon his lap with the boundaries of the different countries traced upon it, and with cunning calculation Vela has placed the emperor’s clenched left fist upon Russia and Prussia. The eyes look straight forward, but evidently without seeing any- thino: in the line of their vision. In modellins^ this work Vela rejected the principle, which he usually adopted, of representing the mind in repose, as is shown both by the tightly drawn muscles of the hand and by the expression of the face. The limbs are in a state of relaxation, but the intellect is clearly 150 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. in feverish action. A single glance at the face shows this; the deep intentness of the eyes con- veying the clearest idea of the succession of vivid images passing before the man’s inner vision. After he had brought this work to completion, Vela was much disturbed for fear that it might not meet with the favor either of the critics or the pub- lic at Paris. Giulio Carotti has described the sculp- tor as walking up and down in his studio after the marble had been put in its case and despatched on its journey, saying to himself over and over again, “ What if it should prove a fiasco ! ” As it turned out, he had no need to distress himself on the sub- ject, for its success with the public was instantaneous and overwhelming. “ The people who flocked to the exposition stood about Vela’s work in silence,” says Dali’ Ongaro, in his review of the exposition, “ as if the emperor were alive and sat there in person be- fore them. Before all the other works of art, they looked at their catalogues to see what the subject was, asked and answered questions, and exchanged opinions. But before Vela’s Napoleon, no one spoke. You heard nothing but the suppressed murmurs of admiration, which did not need to be articulate to be understood. ... A few steps away, in the French section, there were several busts and another life-size statue of the Man of Destiny, carved in the purest of marble by a sculptor who had made his fame and fortune by doing this very thing. . . . But nobody gave them so much as a glance. They THE LAST DAYS OF NAPOLEON FROM 'HIE REPLICA OF PHE ORIGINAL MARBLE BY VELA, IN THE CORCORAN MUSEUM OF ART, WASHINCiTON VINCENZO VELA. 151 were stars eclipsed by the appearance of the sun above the horizon. . . . About Vela’s work there was a fascination and a power, which perhaps no other statue, ancient or modern, has ever exercised over those who stood before it. Part of this fasci- nation must perhaps be credited to the selection of the subject, but much more to the marvellous artis- tic skill with which the subject was conceived and interpreted.” Either during the exposition or after its close, the statue was bought by the French government and removed to Versailles. When it was first placed in the Salle du Sacre, the great canvas by David, which gave the name to the room, still hung upon its walls, and the juxtaposition of the two works, showing the emperor at the zenith and at the nadir of his power, furnished an antithesis more striking than any ever produced by verbal rhetoric.. Since the removal of David’s picture to the Louvre the statue has lost this incidental increment to its force. No good photographs have ever been taken- of the original marble, and the reproduction of the work, which is given in this book, is taken from the marble replica now in the Corcoran Gallery at Washington. The Corcoran copy, originally in the collection of Mr. John Taylor Johnston of New York, was probably carved directly from the origi- nal model at Ligornetto ; but I cannot say that it gives one precisely the same impression as the Ver- sailles version. It has been magnificently placed 152 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. in the centre of the finely-lighted upper hall of the gallery, and can be photographed to advantage, whereas the Versailles photographs, owing to the defectiveness of the lighting, are too poor for repro- duction. But the front light at Versailles effaces the pupil of the eyes, and gives the expression its peculiar quality of mental absorption, while the Washington light brings out the pupil and makes it appear as if the emperor’s gaze were fixed directly upon the observer. Soon after the successful exhibition of this work at Paris Vela brought his residence at Turin to a close and removed to Ligornetto, where he built or purchased a villa and studio, and where he re- mained until his death in 1891 (October 4). It is said — I do not know with how much truth — that one of his motives for leaving Turin was his dis- satisfaction at the outcome of the Cavour monument competition in which he had figured unsuccessfully as one of the contestants. I referred to this monu- ♦ment on a previous page, and mentioned that the commission was ultimately given to Giovanni Dupre. I might have added — what was the fact — that in the competition which preceded the final award of the commission Dupre was himself one of the jurors, and that he voted for Vela’s design without, however, winning over the majority of the jury to his way of thinking. After his removal to Ligornetto, Vela still con- tinued to occupy himself in devising and executing VINCENZO VELA. 153 new works of art, but naturally found less to do than at Turin. As I look over the list of his later productions, I find only four public monuments and seven private ones set down against the last twenty-four years of his life (1867-1891): the more important among them being the statue of Correggio for the town of Correggio, the statues modelled for the Brunswick monument at Geneva, and the tall and graceful figure, symbolizing Prayer, which forms the principal feature of the monument to the Coun- tess Giulini Belgioioso at Verate, in the Brianza. The statues modelled for the Brunswick monument were never used and remained in Vela’s studio at the time of his death, owing to some difference of opinion which arose between the sculptor and the Genevan authorities while the work was in progress, and which led to the transfer of the commission to other artists. Perhaps I ought to say a word here in conclusion as to the large relief entitled the Victims of Toil, which Vela modelled about 1880, in view of the praise bestowed upon it by some Italian writers and the honor involved in its having been purchased by the government for the National Gallery of Modern Art at Rome. I confess, however, that I find noth- ing of interest in the work except its psychological interest as showing that at a certain moment in his life Vela lost all faith in his own creed and ner- vously, almost hysterically, hastened to proclaim him- self a convert to a different faith. In 1877 there 54 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. was exhibited at Naples a peculiar plastic work by Achille D’Orsi, showing, in the most vivid manner, to what disfigurements the human body can be re- duced by gluttony and intemperance, and the work was much noticed and commented upon by all the artists and art writers gathered at Naples. The echo of this talk must have come to Vela’s ears, if he did not visit Naples himself; and shortly after- ward he modelled the relief to which I have re- ferred, showing a party of workmen bearing one of their injured comrades out of a railway tunnel — the particular theme which he needed having been furnished by an incident which occurred under his eyes during the construction of the St. Gotthard railway. The sudden abandonment of all the prin- ciples of a lifetime is made apparent by two features of this work: first, by the selection of a Zolaistic theme ; and, second, by the treatment of it syntheti- cally and not naturalistically. As in D’Orsi’s work, we are shown a type of the human form which never existed and which is brutalized almost beyond recognition. The only difference between the two productions is that in the work of the older artist it is the deformity which may result from toil under unhealthful conditions which is selected in the anal- ysis and exaggerated in the synthesis, instead of the deformity which results from the excessive in- dulgence of the appetites. This sudden acceptance of the extreme theories of a totally different school in art is a singular thing in the life of an artist, and VINCENZO VELA. 155 I find it difficult to understand it in Vela’s case. One almost suspects some lurking sense of neglect, some feeling that his own people had forgotten him, and the consequent need of coming forth from his retirement with something strikingly novel which should infallibly command public attention. I should be reluctant to conclude what I have to say about so great an artist with anything which might look like hostile criticism, and I therefore hasten to add that in such creations as the monu- ment to the Countess Giulini Belgioioso, produced during this same period, we have everything wdiich inspires admiration and respect in a work of art : harmony of lines, truth of pose and expression, and nobility of conception. Vela was unquestionably a man of exceptional talent, and his influence on the rising generation of Italian artists was very great. Sculptors in other parts of Italy were tend- ing toward the logical development of the princi- ples of Bartolini at the same time that he was. He moved to a certain extent with the current. But I do not find that any one man came to the front as the champion of naturalism quite so early, or stood forth quite so prominently, as this precocious pupil of Cacciatori. CHAPTER V. RECENT SCULPTORS OF SOUTHERN ITALY. The importance of the southern group of sculptors. — Its responsive- ness to the ideas of the modern Neapolitan art-movement headed by the painters Morelli and Palizzi. — General characteristics of recent Neapolitan sculpture. — Some of the older artists, Solari and Belliazzi. — Emilio Franceschi. — The figures of the vestal Opimia and the martyr Eulalia. — Other works of this sculptor. — Frances- chi’s bronzes more strictly autographic than his marbles. — Sculp- tors of the younger group. — Achille D'Orsi. — The group of the “Parassiti” and the principles which it illustrates. — Works by D’Orsi in the National Gallery at Rome. — Francesco Jerace. — His statue of Victor Emmanuel on the facade of the Royal Palace. — Charac- teristics of his style. — Other important works. — Vincenzo Jerace. — The place of Vmcenzo Gemito in modern sculpture. — His early studies. — Figure of the Gamester at Capodimonte. — He wins the prix de Rome. — Success of the statuette of the Boy Fisherman. — Gemito visits Paris and his work is applauded by Meissonier and Dubois. — He exhibits at the Salon and at private galleries. — His works in the National Gallery at Rome. — The Water-carrier. — The statuette of Meissonier. — The Brutus. — The colossal statue of Charles V on the facade of the Royal Palace at Naples. — Gemi- to’s dissatisfaction with this work. — He ceases to produce. — Costantmo Barbella and his work. — Notes as to other sculptors of southern Italy. — The Sicilians. — Benedetto Civiletti h\s early studies at Palermo and Florence. — His figure of Dante as a boy and its success. — The Canaris group, its popularity and pur- chase by the government. — The statue of Julius Caesar as a youth. — Admirable qualities of this work. — Friendship between Civiletti and Ernest Renan. — Works modelled under the influence of the latter. — Letters written by M. Renan to Civiletti in praise of his work. — Civiletti’s success at the Paris exposition. — Important 156 SCULPTORS OF SOUTHERN ITALY. 157 works exhibited by him at national expositions. — The Dogali group is admired by the queen and obtains for the sculptor a com- mission for a statue of Archimedes. — Other Sicilian sculptors. — The Ximenes family. — Early studies of Ettore Ximenes at Palermo and Naples. — He obtains a pension and establishes himself for a number of years at Florence. — Principal works modelled between 1877 and 1888. — Unusual strength exhibited in these productions. — His appointment to the directorship of the Academy of Fine Arts at Urbino does not prevent him from continuing his brilliant indi- vidual work. — He obtains the commission for the Garibaldi monu- ment at Milan. — Description of this monument. — Comments on the figure of Revolution. — The subject furnishes him a favorable opportunity for the exhibition of his powers. — More recent works of Ximenes. — Novel qualities developed in the ‘‘Rinascita” of 1895. — Ximenes’ views on art as expressed by him in a discourse delivered at the Urbino Academy. Among the different local groups of sculptors in Italy I think the southern group has shown more originality during the last thirty years than any other. Its originality has not always been accepta- ble to the foreign taste — indeed, it has sometimes been extremely repellent. But so far as the mere progressive spirit is concerned — that is to say, the desire to escape from what has become familiar, con- ventional, and tiresome, and to substitute for it some- thing novel, unconventional, and fresh — I think that we must accord the palm to the so-called meridional school, and more particularly to the group of artists established at Naples. In Chapter XII, under the head of the painters, I shall have occasion to speak of Morelli and Palizzi, the leaders of the important modern Neapolitan art- movement. That movement, which gave to a city 158 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. which had for centuries held only a position of sub- ordinate importance in aesthetics the leading place as an Italian art centre, was primarily a pictorial movement. That is to say the two men who were, by universal consent, accorded the position of leaders, were both painters. But the principles which made their movement successful were quite as applicable to sculpture as to painting, and young men who aspired to succeed in plastic art were not slow to perceive this. I have already mentioned that in the days when Louis David stood at the front at Paris, he admitted young sculptors as well as young painters to his studio. And the same was true of Morelli. Students of both branches of art came to him for instruction, and the principles which he ad- vocated consequently helped on the development of the new movement in sculpture as well as the new movement in painting. The originality exhibited by the southern school was sometimes inside of the naturalistic formula, and sometimes outside of it. The artists who governed themselves strictly by the principles of naturalism had an expedient for satisfying the well-known Neapolitan taste for strong emotions by selecting daring or sensational subjects. Those who had no convictions as to the imperative necessity of model- ling their figures in literal imitation of nature, had the further expedient of exaggerating the qualities which they wished to emphasize, and of astonishing their audience by startling synthetic inventions, bor- SCULPTORS OF SOUTHERN ITALY. 159 dering in some cases upon caricature. Tommaso Solari (born September 4, 1820) is among the men who held rather closely to the principles of natural- ism. His statue of Carlo Poerio, occupying a con- spicuous position in the Largo della Carita — an opening in the Toledo, the busiest street of Naples — is purely naturalistic, in no way distinguishable from such works of Vela as the statues of Grossi and Piola in the courtyard of the Brera. There is the same studied carelessness of attitude — Poerio has his hand in his pocket — the same literal reproduc- tion of modern dress, the same unemotional expres- sion, and the same prosaic, every-day air about the work as a whole. The plastic productions of Raffaele Belliazzi (born at Naples December 9, 1835) are quite as purely naturalistic as those of Solari. His figure of the sleeping peasant boy in the National Gallery of Modern Art at Rome is a perfectly natural work, without a touch of idealiza- tion ; and the same might be said of the large mar- ble group of a mother and child (entitled The approaching Storm) at Capodimonte, and the two terra-cotta busts in the same collection. The pict- ure, in bas-relief, of the Three Marys is not less minutely faithful to life than the other works w^hich I have mentioned; but it has a certain elevation which the others have not, owing to the noble expres- sion of sorrow written on the homely peasant faces. Emilio Franceschi, who resided at Naples from 1869 until his death in 1890, was so largely in flu- i6o HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. enced by Neapolitan ideas that he may properly be considered as one of the sculptors of the Neapolitan group, although not a Neapolitan by birth. He was born at Florence in 1839, received the rudi- ments of a general education at the Collegio Fonte- guerra, studied drawing for a short time at the Academy of Fine Arts at Florence, apprenticed himself while still a boy to the wood-carver, Chi- loni, learned the art of wood-carving in Chiloni’s establishment, and in 1856 commenced business for himself. Some of his wood-carvings were ex- hibited at London in 1862 and at Paris in 1867. Removing to Naples in 1869, at the age of thirty, he became a partner and afterward director in a wood-carving establishment on the Strada di Capo- dimonte, which is still continued under his name. His first work of sculpture was a naturalistic figure of a boy playing a mandolin (// Menestrello), which he exhibited at the Vienna exposition of 1873. This was followed by a figure of an Arab Boy, shown at the Italian national exposition held at Naples in 1877, which was purchased by the Commendatore Vonwiller and is now in his collection. The Arab Boy is one of the best of Franceschi’s works, accu- rate in modelling, ingenious in composition, naively truthful in expression, and free from any taint of sensationalism. At the same exposition (Naples, 1877) he exhibited a seated figure of the poet Parini and an ideal work representing Opimia, the vestal who broke her vows SCULPTORS OF SOUTHERN ITALY. l6l and who was condemned to be buried alive. The Parini is now in the National Gallery at Rome, and, like the earlier work in the Vonwiller collec- tion, gives a very favorable idea of Franceschi’s really remarkable powers. The Opimia stands in the centre of one of the large rooms at Capodi- monte ; it is delicate and sensitive in modelling, and is carved from a block of the purest white marble, the crystalline purity of the material adding not a little to the charm of the work. Although not ob- jectionable in itself the Opimia showed, however, the presence of an unfortunate element in Frances- chi’s nature which was made painfully manifest in his work representing the martyr Eulalia, exhibited at Turin in 1880. The city of Turin very injudi- ciously purchased this statue, and placed it in the municipal Gallery of Modern Art, where it is now pointed out by unsympathetic foreign critics as a proof of the degeneration of modern Italian sculptors. In the parcelling out of the commissions for the statues for the front of the Royal Palace at Naples^ 1 The complete list of the statues on the front of the Royal Palace, with their authors, is as follows (beginning at the left) : 1. Roger the Norman, by Franceschi; 2. Frederick of Hohenstaufen, by Caggiano ; 3. Charles of Anjou, by Solari ; 4. Alphonso of Aragon, by D’Orsi ; 5. Charles V, by Gemito ; 6. Charles III, by Belliazzi ; 7. Joachim Murat, by Amenclola ; 8. Victor Emmanuel, by Jerace (Francesco). The idea underlying this selection of subjects was to give one repre- sentative sovereign from each of the various royal and imperial houses i 62 history of modern ITALIAN ART. Franceschi was assigned the task of modelling the figure of Roger the Norman which now occupies the first niche at the left, and which is rather the best of the whole series of royal statues. He also received the commission for the important eques- trian statue of Victor Emmanuel which the city of Naples proposed to erect in the centre of the long square before the Municipio ; but his premature death in January, 1890, prevented him from finish- ing the work. The original sketch-model of the whole monument and the life-size model of the horse, both of them now preserved in his former studio, were all that he lived to complete. After his decease the statue of the king was completed by Alfonso Balzico (author of the singular statue of Duke Ferdinand of Genoa in the Piazza Solferino at Turin), and the whole work was publicly inaugu- rated on the thirteenth of June, 1897. Franceschi never learned the art of carving mar- ble, and was obliged to rely upon subordinates to help him out in this part of his work. Two of his productions — the Arab Boy in the Vonwiller collec- tion, and the singular figure entitled Fossor in the National Gallery at Rome — are in bronze, and, if cast by the “ lost wax ” process as they probably were, are the most strictly autographic of any of his works. which in turn have ruled over Naples. Frederick of Hohenstaufen (Frederick II) is sometimes referred to as Frederick of Schwaben (Svevia) by Italian writers. Charles V was the Emperor Charles V of Austria. Charles III was of the House of Bourbon and the son of Philip V of Spain. SCULPTORS OF SOUTHERN ITALY. 163 The modelling of the figure in wax, preparatory to the casting in bronze, would have given him an opportunity to carry the work to the last degree of perfection with his own hands, and the metal would have reproduced the wax with the exactness of an impression taken from a die. Achille D’Orsi (born at Naples in 1845) stands forth as the representative of quite a different group from that of which the sculptors hitherto mentioned form a part. He may have produced works in the style of the naturalists, but it is not by works of that class that he is best known. After studying at Rome for some time prior to 1876, he returned to Naples in the latter year, and made his debut with a work entitled II Cabalista, which was noticed by the art-critics of the day, but did not win a public success. At the national exposition held at Naples the next year (1877) he exhibited the group called / Parassiti, which I referred to on page 153 in speaking of Vela’s Victims of Toil, and which had the great merit, so far as its author was con- cerned, of making his (D’Orsi’s) name known from one end of Italy to the other. The group was pur- chased either by the royal family or by the govern- ment, and stands at present in the northeast corner room of the museum at Capodimonte. It appears to be of bronze, but is really of plaster coated with metallic paint. I refer to this work, not because it has anything in it which appeals to the non-Italian taste, but be- 1 64 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. cause it illustrates one of the peculiar phases of modern Neapolitan art which cannot be wholly overlooked. The Parassiti are two gluttons, two Pompeian citizens, who have eaten and drunk at the table of some rich man, and who have been reduced to imbecility by their excesses. The subject is Zolaistic in the extreme, and all that is significant in the group is the proof which it gives of its author’s skill in extracting from any type of the human figure its most essential qualities, and bring- ing them out with startling relief. The result is of course no more naturalistic than the work of Bernini or Michelangelo ; and the cleverness which it ex- hibits is similar in principle — though different in its results — to the cleverness exhibited in the work of those two men. In the National Gallery of Modern Art at Rome there are two bronzes by this sculptor : one of them a life-size figure of a peasant exhausted by toil, en- titled Proxhnus tuus (Thy Neighbor), and the other a small statuette representing a boy carrying a coil of rope with some water jars attached to it. The former is not an agreeable work, showing as it does a degraded type of humanity with its degradation emphasized and its spiritual and intellectual quali- ties wholly suppressed. The statuette, on the con- trary, is of the very highest order of merit, and as perfect as one of the antiques in the National Museum at Naples. D’Orsi has proved by this one work that his abilities are of nearly as high an order SCULPTORS OF SOUTHERN ITALY. 165 as those of Gemito, and that it is his mistaken choice of subjects alone which has forced him into a secondary position. Beside the two works above referred to, there is also a fine head of a sailor in green bronze by D’Orsi in the National Gallery at Rome, and a replica or variation of the same subject in the Brera Gallery at Milan. The same sculptor is also the author of the statue of Alphonso of Ara- gon, which occupies one of the niches (the first at the left of the entrance) in the front of the Royal Palace at Naples. Francesco Jerace (born at Polistena in Calabria in 1853) has exhibited an even stronger inclination than D’Orsi to escape from the limitations imposed upon the sculptor by the rules of naturalism. D’Orsi adopted a style similar to that of the artists whose work was to be placed near his, in modelling the statue which he was commissioned to execute for the facade of the Royal Palace. Jerace did not do this. He insisted upon impressing upon his statue of Victor Emmanuel the stamp of his personal style, and the work consequently has almost the quality of a protest against the principles which governed the majority of the collaborating sculptors. I do not think there is anything consciously retrospective in Jerace’s manner. He advances along a line marked out to him by his own tempera- ment, and which he cannot but follow if he is to be faithful to his own instincts. At the same time the critic who looks at his work from an indepen- l66 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. dent standpoint cannot fail to recognize that he has unconsciously returned to the principles rejected by the school of Winckelmann and Mengs. His style has as yet found comparatively few imitators, but in his own personal work he completes an art-cycle, and brings back the canons of taste nearly to the point from which they departed about one hundred and fifty years ago. Jerace was represented at the triennial exposition at the Brera (Milan) in 1894 by a serious and dig- nified figure of Vittoria Colonna with a certain Michelangelesque quality of majesty in the physical type. At the Venice international exposition of 1895 he exhibited a figure of Beethoven (intended for the Naples Conservatory), representing him as reclining upon a large, irregularly shaped block of stone, the coarse, rough quality of this accessory showing the sculptor’s disregard of precedent quite as much as the unconventional attitude of the figure itself. Two years later he completed a statue of another musician, Donizetti — more than a statue, a plastic picture, introducing a large curving stone bench upon which the composer was seated in the act of composition, while the visible embodiment of lyric music stood before him, harp in hand ; the whole work is now to be seen at Bergamo, Doni- zetti’s birthplace, where it was unveiled Septem- ber 26, 1897. Jerace is the author of many other works (among them a monument to the English astronomer and mathematician, Mary Somerville, SCULPTORS OF SOUTHERN ITALY. 167 in the protestant cemetery at Naples), and is now titular professor in the Naples Institute of Fine Arts. His brother Vincenzo, who was born at Polistena in 1862, has shown an equally pro- nounced tendency toward a novel form of art ; but has devoted himself as a rule to works in small dimensions, often embodying some weird and strange conception which would never have occurred to the mind of any other artist. The work of Vincenzo Gemito has been regarded with rather more sympathy abroad than that of any of the other Neapolitan sculptors whom I have thus far mentioned in this chapter. If we appraise his talent at its very highest value, Gemito might possibly be called a modern Benvenuto Cellini. He has exhibited a fondness for work in small dimensions, minutely finished ; and he has also shown something of the choice taste, the ability to create things which are rare and unique without being startling, which distinguished the great Tus- can chiseller. The particular in which Gemito’s work does not resemble Cellini’s is in its volume. The Neapolitan artist has given to the world very few plastic conceptions, and there is little probability that the number at present in existence will ever be increased. Gemito was born at Naples in 1852 and, to repeat what I have had occasion to say of almost every artist whose career has been thus far reviewed, he originated in very humble social conditions. Before l68 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. he began to study sculpture, he was hardly more than a street waif, either spending his time in ab- solute idleness or taking up whatever occupation came first to hand. He commenced his art studies in 1866, when he was fourteen years old, by entering the studio of Emanuele Caggiano; and, although he was as ignorant as a boy could be, he was full of eagerness to learn, convinced of his vocation, and sure of his future success.^ The figure of the Gamester, which may now be seen in the same room with Franceschi’s Opimia at Capodimonte, is said to have been modelled by Gemito when he was only sixteen years old. If the age of the young artist is correctly given, the feat was certainly a remarkable one. The version of the work at Capodimonte is in green bronze and stands on the window side of the second room beyond the ballroom. The figure is about life size, and represents a boy bending over some cards spread out on the ground before him. The model- ling is flawlessly accurate, and the face and figure full of character. Gemito was encouraged to enter into the competition opened periodically by the official art school at Naples for the pension for study at Rome, and the prize was awarded to him for a bas-relief on the subject of Joseph sold by his Brethren. This work was, I believe, never executed in anything more enduring than plaster, and if it is 1 This is the statement of the Cavaliere Attilio Centelli from whom my information as to Gemito is largely derived. SCULPTORS OF SOUTHERN ITALY. 169 in existence anywhere, it is probably only in some one of the storerooms reserved for the prize work of the pupils at the Institute of Fine Arts. The pension entitled him to four years’ study at Rome, but the greater part of the time was spent by him at Naples. It is stated that while he was receiving his pension, he devoted a year to making an exact copy of the famous bronze statuette of Narcissus at the Neapolitan National Museum, and certainly no studies which he would have pursued at Rome could have exercised such a beneficial influence upon his style and taste. It is evident that he needed only a stimulus to refined production, not the creation of a refined artistic nature within him. He must have had that by native endowment, or he would never by his own free will have made this long, persevering, exhaustive study of this particu- lar masterpiece of ancient art. The period of his pension, and of his early and independent study and work subsequent to the expiration of his pension, is included between the years i868 and 1877, and before the end of the latter year he had modelled the statuette of the Boy Fisherman which made his reputation at Paris. The statuette represented a Neapolitan boy detach- ing a fish from a hook and clutching it up against his breast in a characteristic attitude. To judge of the work from drawings and engravings, it is far less acceptable to the taste of the general public than the three works by the same sculptor now in I/O HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. the National Gallery at Rome, of which something will be said farther on ; but to the connoisseur the work was precious because it showed not only an extremely refined artistic nature and remarkable acuteness of observation, but also that the young artist had emancipated himself entirely from the routine ideas of the studios. To the painter or the sculptor who has an abhorrence of routine, any escape from it, even in the direction of the uncouth and the graceless, is agreeable, because it shows that the author of the work is determined to abandon the beaten path and create an indepen- dent course for himself. Among Gemito’s friends at Naples was the painter Mancini, an artist of considerable repute, who had passed some time at Paris, and made a number of acquaintances there. Mancini was con- vinced that Gemito would find appreciation at Paris, urged him to go there, and gave him introductions. The Cavaliere Centelli, in his sketch of Gemito’s career, tells a singular story which shows the young man’s supreme confidence at this time in his own powers. During his first days in Paris he visited the galleries and museums, and devoured their con- tents greedily. At the Luxembourg he saw for the first time the C hauteur florentin by Dubois. In the evening at the cafe, where he met some of the men to whom he had been introduced by Mancini, he talked about Dubois’ work, and expressed to his companions, without reserve, his admiration for it. SCULPTORS OF SOUTHERN ITALY. 171 “ Dites done,” said one of them, “vous n’avez per- sonne capable de faire une oeuvre pareille en Italie?” And Gemito replied, “Nous n’en avons pas beaucoup, mais nous en avons un.” And the conversation went on, question and answer, “ De quel pays est-il ? ” “ De Naples.” “ Est-il la-bas ” “ En ce moment il se trouve a Paris.” “ Et il s’ap- pelle ? ” “ Gemito.” “ C’est vous alors ? ” “ C’est moi.” The young sculptors effrontery was in a certain sense justified later, for he offered his Boy Fisherman for exhibition at the Salon, and not only had the satisfaction of seeing it accepted, but of seeing it rather exceptionally admired. Among the admirers of the work was Meissonier, and it was Meissonier who became its purchaser, the price paid being a very large one : larger, it is safe to say, than had ever been paid for any work of modern Neapolitan sculpture of such diminutive proportions before. The sculptor Dubois also re- garded the work as one of much merit, and to prove his interest in its author consented to sit to him for a bust, an honor which he certainly would not have conferred upon so young an artist if he had not believed him to be the possessor of exceptional talent. This was in 1877. I find, by referring to the Salon catalogues, that Gemito was again repre- sented at the Salon in 1879 by two works — one of them the bust of a child, the other entered as the bust of a doctor — which were complimented in the 1/2 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. Gazette des Beaux- Arts for their entram, their vie extraordinaire, and the habilete and sans fa^on with which they were modelled. In 1880 Gemito ex- hibited at the Salon his statuette of Meissonier, upon which the Gazette bestowed the highest praise. The same work was exhibited the same year at the national Italian exposition held at Turin, together with a bust of the Duke of Aosta, brother of King Humbert. The Boy Fisherman was exhibited again at Paris, at the exposition of the Rue de Seze in 1883, but after that date I find no further allusions to Gemito in the art journals of the French capital. He had returned to Naples before the end of the latter year, and had been accorded, on the strength of his Parisian successes, two important commissions : one of them for a statue of Charles V, for a niche in the fa9ade of the Royal Palace at Naples, and one for an elabo- rate silver service for the royal table — this last, unfortunately, never completed. At a date which I am unable to definitely estab- lish, Gemito modelled the small figure of a water- carrier standing upon a fountain {V Acquaiolo), which was purchased by the government in 1893, and which is now in the Gallery of Modern Art at Rome. The whole work, figure and fountain, would not measure more than forty centimetres in height. The boy is entirely nude, and carries a large water jar under his right arm, while he holds out a small jar in his left hand, as if offering water SCULPTORS OF SOUTHERN ITALY. 173 to a purchaser. The larger jar is not so much supported by the arm as by the hip, and it was undoubtedly the peculiar position into which the supple body was forced by the weight of the heavy jar which caught the sculptor’s fancy, and gave him the suggestion for the work. Every detail of the modelling is executed with the utmost nicety, and the patina of the bronze — very dark with a dull gloss — brings it into close correspondence with the best antiques in the Naples Museum. The statuette of Meissonier is also in the Na- tional Gallery at Rome, having been purchased for that collection at the same time as the work just referred to. The figure stands only a trifle higher than the figure of the Water-carrier. The painter holds his palette on his left thumb, his brush in his right hand, and is evidently just looking at his canvas to judge of the effect of the last touch which he has given to it. Meissonier had a very singular figure, and Gemito made the most of its singularity. The legs are small and crooked, the left leg bending so much outward between the ankle and the knee that it appears deformed. The torso is disproportionately large for the size of the legs ; the chest development is enormous ; and the shoul- ders were evidently meant for some other man. The whole figure leads up in a sort of climax to the head which Gemito has made nearly as stately and ma- jestic, with the beard sweeping down in great locks upon the chest, as the head of Moses in the familiar 174 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. statue by Michelangelo. There is no lack of minute rendering of fine details in the work ; for example, the monocle and the thread by which it is sus- pended from the throat are modelled with micro- scopic fidelity ; but the merit of the bronze does not lie in this, but in the successful interpretation of character. Gemito’s genius enabled him, as the painter worked before his eyes, to select what was most characteristic in his figure, pose, and expres- sion ; and the great skill which he had acquired by the patient and persevering study of the processes of his art made it possible for him to reproduce them in the statuette without the loss of a single atom of vital quality. There is one other work by Gemito, in the Na- tional Gallery at Rome, which is quite as much to be admired as either of the other two just referred to ; and this is the terra-cotta figure of Brutus which was purchased by the government at the same time as the other figures in 1893. The terra-cotta is not of the ordinary brick tint of commercial terra-cotta, but presents various shades of dull whitish red, like the old lamps excavated at Pompeii. The charm of the work, in point of expression, is the look of absorption and of self-forgetfulness on the face of Brutus. His pose is very simple, the left arm be- ing enveloped in the folds of his toga, and the right arm hanging nervelessly at his side. But in its import the figure is intensely dramatic, despite the perfect tranquillity of the lines. One sees at a SCULPTORS OF SOUTHERN ITALY. 75 glance, although there is no dead figure of Caesar beside him, that he is looking down at the form of his victim, and looking at him with an overmastering regret which renders him, for the moment, insen- sible to all other impressions. A self-conscious, dramatic pose is not difficult to achieve : sculptors of inferior ability could have modelled a Brutus with a corrugated brow and a declamatory gesture ; but there are very few living sculptors who could have shaped a figure which would have brought to our minds the real personality of the man, the attitude which he must have assumed and the emotion which he must have felt, so forcibly as this statuette by Gemito. The statue of the Emperor Charles V of Austria, which stands in one of the niches in the front of the Royal Palace at Naples, and which remains, up to the present time, Gemito’s latest production, does not impress one as a work of highly exceptional merit. What it would look like in a statuette, I cannot say, but in the colossal proportions in which it is actually executed — and in which it had to be executed to correspond to the figures in the other niches — it fails to strike one as anything very re- markable in the way of plastic invention. Possibly the defects are of a purely negative character, a sim- ple failure to give the work a quality of positive superiority. The statue looks rigid and stiff be- cause of the armor in which it is clothed, but this rigidity and stiffness being inseparable from the 176 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. military harness of the figure would not, in them- selves, necessarily lessen the interest or impressive- ness of the work — just as they do not detract from the interest and impressiveness of the familiar ar- mored figure of King Arthur at Innspruck. I should be disposed to assign its lack of effectiveness to some other quality, or combination of qualities, too subtile to be easily detected and named. The one striking thing about the figure, and the peculiarity about it which is most apt to arrest one’s attention and fasten itself upon one’s memory, is the excessive projection of the lower jaw. The Cava- liere Centelli mentions that this was a character- mark, deliberately exaggerated by the sculptor, as he exaggerated the deformity of Meissonier’s limbs for the sake of increasing the individuality and vital- ity of his work. After the commission to model the statue had been placed in his hands, Gemito made an expedition to Paris to look up portraits of his subject ; and his determination to find out precisely what the emperor looked like led him to push his journey even farther than Paris and make some re- searches in the libraries and galleries of Spain. As was just stated, the peculiar feature of the face, which he became convinced would most help him in giving character to the portrait, was this slight malforma- tion of the lower jaw which, without the friendly pro- tection of the beard would, it seems, have amounted almost to a positive deformity. Gemito never liked this work after it was finally SCULPTORS OF SOUTHERN ITALY. 77 set in its place in the fa9ade of the palace. He executed the original, small-sized model in wax in Meissonier’s studio at Paris, and it was afterwards enlarged to colossal dimensions under his super- vision at Naples. The next step was to cut it in marble, but before this had been accomplished cer- tain symptoms manifested themselves in the sculp- tor’s mental condition which made it seem desirable to his friends to have him placed temporarily in an asylum. This was virtually the end of his career. His confinement was only temporary, but since re- gaining his liberty he has felt no inclination to resume work in his studio, and exhibits the sad spectacle of a man of genius visited by an intel- lectual disease which renders his fine endowments virtually useless. Costantino Barbella, who was born at Chieti in the Abruzzi in 1853, has devoted himself almost entirely to subjects of pastoral genre, illustrating the costumes, the facial types, and the manners and customs of the people among whom his early life was passed. After pursuing a course of studies at the Institute of Fine Arts at Naples, he made a very successful debut in 1877 with a group of three peasant girls in terra-cotta, which attracted much attention at the national exposition held at Naples in that year. I do not know that any copy of this work is now to be seen in any public collection except in the Royal Villa at Monza, where there is a replica in the Sala dei Quadri. Barbella modelled 1/8 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. his three figures of peasant girls with the utmost fidelity to life ; and the beauty of the work lies in the admirable type of human nature which it repre- sents, — fresh, robust young womanhood, at the age of greatest physical perfection, receiving in this case an additional charm from the liveliness of the expression and the sunshine which radiates from their faces. There are three works of Barbella in the National Gallery of Modern Art at Rome : a group repre- senting the Departure of the Conscript, another representing the Conscript’s Return, and still an- other which is simply entitled April. In the general character of the modelling and in the color of the bronze the last is the best of the three. In the other two groups the bronze has been given an unpleasantly yellow tint, too suggestive of ordinary commercial productions, and the modelling of cer- tain parts of the figures, notably of the hands, is also lacking in refinement. These works were originally exhibited at the Roman exposition of 1883, in terra-cotta, and they should have been left in that material, which is Barbella’s natural medium, instead of being put into a form which brings them into such dangerous comparison with the much finer work of Gemito. Barbella is an artist of prolific invention, and the number of his productions is very large. He has taken pains to be represented at almost all the Italian expositions, and has succeeded in making SCULPTORS OF SOUTHERN ITALY. 179 his name and the character of his work very widely known. The Canzo 7 ie d' Amove, or group of peas- ant girls above referred to, beside winning its au- thor applause at Naples in 1877, was shown to the public three years later at the exposition at Turin and was equally successful there. Barbella ex- hibited some of his work at Antwerp in 1885 and received at that time the decoration of Chevalier of the Order of Leopold II. His talent is of quite a different order from that of Gemito and can hardly be ranked so high. He finds in nature, or in his memories of the peasant life in the midst of which he was brought up, a vast number of scenes or fragments of scenes, which have a singular fas- cination for him ; and he puts these scenes into re- lief with no other solicitude than to preserve the precise flavor of the original, neither heightening it nor diminishing it by any process of his art.^ ^ Raffaello Pagliaccetti, like Barbella a native of the Abruzzi, was attracted to Florence in i86i, and made his home there after that date. Pagliacetti was born at Giulianuova October 31, 1839, and studied at the French Academy and the Academy of St. Luke at Rome. Among his works are the statue of Victor Emmanuel at Giulianuova and the colossal figure of St. Andrew in the frieze of apostles on the modern facade of the Florence cathedral. This last work is distinguished from the other statues of the frieze by the striking character of the pose, the arms of the saint being crossed in an unusual position over an open book which he holds with its face turned away from him. Antoiio Bortone is another sculptor of southern Italy who belongs by residence to the Florentine group. He was born at Lecce, in the “heel of the boot,” and studied at the Naples Institute of Fine Arts. He is the author of two statues on the front of the Florence cathedral : the con- ventional figure of St. James the Less in the frieze (fourth from the right end), and the fine seated figure of Sant’ Antonino in the niche low i8o HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. Among the Sicilian sculptors, who form a not unimportant section of the southern group, I find the same general tendencies as among the sculp- tors resident at Naples. Some of them, perhaps the majority, tend in their general style toward the principles of Vela; but they show more insistence than northern sculptors upon something emphatic in effect, this insistence in some cases leading to the production of works too highly seasoned for the non-Italian taste, and which are only accepted with reservations by the more conservative portion of the Italian public. The Sicilians, like the Neapoli- tans, have a touch of the volcanic in their nature, and it naturally finds expression in their art. Benedetto Civiletti who was born at Palermo October i, 1846, and who has for many years been regarded as the leader of the Sicilian group, studied as a young man at Florence under Dupre, but was not permanently influenced by the instruction which down in the buttress at the extreme right of the facade as one faces the church. This last statue is full of individuality and vitality, and has all the value of a portrait. The saint whom it represents was Archbishop of Florence in the middle ages and blessed the facade of the cathedral about 1446. Eugejiio Maccagiiani^ formerly of Lecce, has recently had a studio at Rome where he has been engaged in executing a number of important works of sculpture for the decoration of the national monu- ment to Victor Emmanuel. Salvatore Albano. born in Calabria May 29, 1841, studied at the Naples Academy from i860 until 1865, obtained the prix de Rome in 1867, and established himself at Florence in 1869, which he continued to make his residence after that date. He is the author of a large number of ideal works, several of which are owned in England and America. The Metropolitan Museum at New York has his Vaiini Fucci^ a subject taken from Dante’s Inferno. SCULPTORS OF SOUTHERN ITALY. I8l he received from that master. Civiletti showed much courage and perseverance as a boy and as a youth. From 1858 to 1863 he worked in a some- what desultory manner under various teachers at Palermo, and in the latter year exhibited a figure of a faun which was probably an immature production, but which had the e:ood fortune to brinp: him to the notice of the Marquis Di Rudini, then mayor of Palermo. With the help of the funds raised for him by the influence of Di Rudini, and to which contri- butions were made by Antonio Morvillo, Baron Paino, and some others, the young sculptor was en- abled to broaden his views by visiting the principal art centres of Italy, and it was then that he directed his steps toward Florence, attracted largely by the reputation of Dupre, who was at that time regarded as the leader of the Tuscan school. He studied at Florence for about two years, and upon reestablish- ing himself in his old surroundings in 1865 re- mained in some obscurity until 1872, when the exhibition of his statue of Dante as a boy made his exceptional talents known to the critics and to the public. The quality which removes Civiletti from the rank and file of Italian sculptors, and entitles him to a place apart, is his power of vivid and accurate expression, including both facial expression and the general expression of the whole work as conveyed by the pose or movement of the figure. In his statue of Dante as a boy he represented the poet at i 82 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. the moment when B'eatrice first passed before his eyes, and the peculiar psychological state into which it projected the sensitive youth is rendered with much success. One sees at a glance that the boy’s consciousness of time and place and of everything else in his surroundings, except of the one object upon which his eyes are fixed, is gone. His body is sustained in its position more by mere inertia than by any conscious effort, and his whole intel- lectual and emotional nature is simply absorbed in contemplation. The figure is removed from the commonplace by the character of the dress, which conforms to mediaeval usage ; and the face is also of an uncommon type, bearing some anticipatory resemblance to the Bargello portrait of Dante by Giotto. The work to which I have just referred was fol- lowed in 1873 by another, representing the Greek patriot Canaris about to set fire to the Turkish fleet anchored in the harbor of Scio, which was quite as good in expression, but not so far removed from ordinary every-day fact as the Dante. The Canaris group, which was exhibited at Vienna in 1873, be- came immediately popular, and was so much admired at Palermo at the exposition held during the inter- national scientific congress of 1875 that it was pur- chased by the government for a large sum and pre- sented to the city.^ It represented the leader in the ^ It has been placed by the municipality in the public pleasure- grounds, called the Villa Giulia, at the south end of the Marina. RECENT SCULPTORS. 183 perilous exploit, half nude, so as to be ready at a moment’s notice to spring into the water, seated upon the prow of a small boat, with a look of bold deter- mination on his face, while his companion knelt just behind him and peered over his shoulder into the darkness. The sculptor undoubtedly achieved a high degree of success in the interpretation of the expression demanded by his theme ; and the theme itself was valuable for sculptural purposes in that it permitted something entirely novel in grouping and a logical use of nude figures. At the Naples exposition of 1877, Civiletti ex- hibited a statue of Julius Cmsar as a youth, in which he returned to the principles which had gov- erned him in his Dante giovane, and with equal if not greater success. The figure is slightly removed from the common type, the modelling of the chest having some suggestion of the antique ; and the face contains something not found in ordinary faces to indicate the dawning power of a great mind. To probe this last quality slightly deeper, I conjecture it to reside in the fact that Civiletti has shown all the furrows, which in the course of years will result from habitual concentration of thought, without carving a single permanent wrinkle into the firm, hard skin of the brow. The accessories have also somethinor to do with removinc: the work from the prosaic and commonplace. They are well chosen and strictly in character. The chair is copied from Roman models, and the skin of the young lion ex- 1 84 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. tended beneath it is a sort of repetition in another form of the idea of the figure itself. It gives an impression of rugged, youthful strength in its first freshness, before the roundness of the limbs has changed into angularity, and before the skin has settled into folds and furrows on the shrunken, mus- cular structure beneath. At the same exposition at which the Canaris group was received with so much favor, the Palermo exposition of 1875, Civiletti made the acquaintance of M. Ernest Renan, who was present in Palermo at the time as a delegate or visitor to the inter- national scientific congress. In recognition of his eminence as a writer, M. Renan was invited to make the round of the exhibition galleries in company with the present King of Italy, then Prince Hum- bert, with the prime minister, Marco Minghetti, and with the minister of public instruction, Ruggero Bonghi. The party paused before the group of the Greek patriots and asked to see the sculptor, and it was at that time that the formal presentation of Civiletti to M. Renan occurred. The acquaintance then formed developed into a friendship, and was kept alive for several years by an occasional inter- change of letters. The Sicilian sculptor modelled a vigorous and truthful bust of M. Renan, which is now in the possession of the latter’s family ; and he also created two imaginative works under his in- fluence: one of them representing Christ in the garden of Gethsemane, and the other Christ at the JULIUS C.ESAR AS A YOUTH FROM THE PLASTER MODEL I!Y CIVILETTI RECENT SCULPTORS. 185 fool: of the Cross. In the latter, the lifeless figure of the Saviour was extended at full length upon the ground, the head propped up against the foot of the cross, the body rigid in its emaciation, and undraped except for a cloth about the loins. In the other work the figure was erect, and clothed in a long garment of some stiff material with the hood drawn over the head. Draperies of this kind are not usual in Italian representations of Christ, and the novelty in the general aspect of the work was heightened by the slightly unconventional character of the beard, and the departure from precedent in some other particulars of the modelling of the features. The expression was certainly not dramatic or exag- gerated. M. Renan was much pleased with the work, and even bestowed upon the artist the high commendation of saying that it was the sole plastic interpretation of his idea of Christ. Unfortu- nately, it has never been executed in marble, and still remains in plaster in the sculptor’s studio at Palermo. Civiletti was represented by several works at the Paris exposition of 1878: the Canaris group, the Young Caesar, and the figure representing a soldier of the time of the First Empire, with the motto of the Old Guard inscribed beneath it. Several letters passed between M. Renan and the sculptor at about the time of this exposition, and I insert in a note some passages which will indicate the friendly rela- tions subsisting between the two men, and the inter- HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. 1 86 est felt by the great writer in the Sicilian artist’s workJ ^ In a letter dated at Paris March 2, 1878, M. Renan says, refer- ring to the bust of himself which Civiletti had modelled: ^^Cher Monsieur Civiletti, — Merci pour les photographies de ce buste dont je suis si her et ou vous avez su mettre Tempreinte d’un talent si original. Ma femme est heureuse de posseder cette belle reproduction d\me oeuvre qu’elle regrette tant de n’avoir pu avoir.” And in a sub- sequent letter, written in answer to one in which Civiletti spoke of his intention of visiting Paris at the time of the universal exposition of 1878, M. Renan says : “ Je suis heureux que ce voyage vous allez bientot refifectuer. Ce me sera une vraie joie, je vous assure, de vous revoir et de reprendre avec vous les entretiens de votre atelier qui m’ont laissd un si agr^able souvenir.” The following letter, dated July i, 1878, I give entire: “Cher Monsieur Civiletti, — Le croirez vous? Ce n’est qu’aujourd’hui que j’ai pu aller a I’Exposition. Des embarras sans nombre ne m’avaient pas permis jusqu’ici d’aller au Champ de Mars. Enfin aujourd’hui j ai vu votre beau Canaris si dramatique, si emouvant, si plein d’ide'es, et qui obtient le plus legitime succes. Quant au Jeune Cesar et au Soldat de Waterloo nous ne les avons pas trouves. J’en dis autant du bello abbozzo que vous avez fait de moi. 11 ne figure pas. II est probable que ... a change d’avis relativement aux morceaux depuis la lettre que vous m’avez fait Thonneur de m’ecrire. Votre Canaris suffit du reste pour faire la reputation d’un artiste. J’en causais I’autre jour avec M. . . . et nous etions d’accord sur le m^rite de I’oeuvre et de I’auteur. Votre lettre nous permit I’esperance de vous voir bientot, et nous sommes bien heureux. Quand viendrez vous? Nous ne partirons pas de Paris avant cette date la. Ce me sera une grande joie de causer avec vous de Palerme et de tant de souvenirs qui nous sont restes chers. Ma femme vous envoie ses meilleurs compliments. Croyez a mes sentiments les plus affectueux et les plus devoues. — E. Renan.” M. Renan found time to visit the exposition a few days later, and wrote Civiletti as follows : “ Aujourd’hui mon genou m’a permis de re- tourner a I’Exposition. J’ai revu Canaris qui a le meme succes et j’ai trouve le Soldat de Waterloo qui m’avait echappe I’autre jour. C’est tres-beau, tres-frappant et le public en est tres-dmu. Pardon d’une omission venant d’une visite trop rapide. Bien a vous. — E. Renan.” The opinion of M. Renan on the statue of Christ in the garden of Geth- RECENT SCULPTORS. 187 The exposition jury awarded to Civiletti a first- class medal, and he received also at the same time (1878) the cross of the Legion of Honor and the title of corresponding member of the French Institute. During his absence in Paris, some attempt was made, as it appears, to injure his reputation at Pa- lermo, an attempt which led Civiletti to address a somewhat intemperate letter to his friend Costantino Ciotti with the request, or the expectation, that it should be published. The Cavaliere Ciotti wisely suppressed the communication, and the news of the honors accorded the sculptor, when made known at Palermo, had the effect of silencing his adversaries and placing his reputation beyond the reach of hostile attack. Since 1878 Civiletti has usually been represented at all the more important Italian expositions by some important work. A group of four figures, represent- ing an episode of the siege of Missolonghi was exhibited by him at Turin in 1880, and a group of seventeen life-size figures, representing the last stand of the Italian troops at the massacre of Dogali (January, 1887), formed his contribution to the national exposition held at Palermo in 1891-1892. Both of these large compositions were closely simi- lar in character to the Canaris, strikingly truthful in expression and literally reproducing, so far as was semane was expressed in a long letter, which is unfortunately lost, the only phrase which Signor Civiletti now remembers being — I quote his words as he gives them in Italian — “ unico interprete del mio libro.” i88 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. possible, the facts which they purported to repre- sent. Certainly no one could look at the Dogali group without being strongly affected by it : the faces of the wearied soldiers, the still undaunted courage of their chief, so infallibly moved one to admiration and to pity. For a work of such magni- tude the sculptor could hardly have expected to find a purchaser; but the queen was indirectly led by her admiration of it to give to Civiletti the com- mission for the statue of Archimedes which has since been satisfactorily completed in bronze and placed in the Royal Palace at Palermo. The Ximenes family of Palermo, originally as the name would seem to indicate of Spanish origin, has produced in the present generation several men of exceptional talent: the painter Empedocle Xime- nes, the artist and writer Eduardo Ximenes, and the sculptor Ettore Ximenes. The latter, born at Palermo in 1855, studied drawing and modelling in the local Academy, and continued his preparatory work at Naples, where he became the pupil in draw- ing of Domenico Morelli, a master for whom he has ever since cherished the greatest veneration and affection. I can discover no common trait run- ning through all of Ximenes’ works except the trait, if it can be called that, of spontaneity. Upon a general survey of his creations he impresses one as a producer of striking impromptus, which are projected hot upon the clay while the idea is fresh, and left substantially as first moulded, without much RECENT SCULPTORS. 89 retouching. It is fortunate that he did not come into the world thirty years earlier than he did, for his talent might have been hampered in its expression or totally suppressed if compelled to manifest itself subject to the canons of taste which held sway as immutable laws during the middle of the century. I cannot say what may have been the nature of his training at the Academy of Fine Arts at Palermo, but at Naples it must have been of the most liberal kind. He pursued some studies afterward at Flor- ence, while receiving a four years’ pension for art study awarded him in 1874, but was already too far advanced to be substantially affected by Florentine conservatism. Early, during his residence at the Tuscan capital, he acquired a reputation as a cari- caturist — a gift which one would suspect him to possess from the evidence of his works, and which was closely allied to the serious and valuable ele- ment in his artistic endowment. His earliest successful production was the figure of a boy wearing the dress of an acrobat, and bal- ancing himself upon a ball. It was exhibited at the Naples exposition of 1877 and was called H Eqiiili- brio. From that date down to the present time Ximenes has been represented at all the important national expositions and at other expositions abroad. For example, he sent to Paris in 1878 the work just referred to, and two other inventions. La Rixe and Le Marmiton. In 1880 the same works appeared at Turin, with two others, Cuoredel Re and La Morte 190 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. di Ciceruacchio. The Heart of the King repre- sented Victor Emmanuel in civilian’s dress, offering a coin to a barefooted boy, and the Death of Cice- ruacchio represented the execution of the Roman popular leader, Angelo Brunetti. At the next Ital- ian national exhibition, that held at Rome in 1883, Ximenes exhibited his Pesca miracolosa (a stalwart fisherman carrying in his arms a young woman whom he had apparently just rescued from the waves) and his Cesare morto (Caesar lying dead in the Senate house with an overturned chair beside him). For the Venetian exposition of 1887 he had ready his characteristic group of eleven figures, rep- resenting the schoolboys in De Amicis’ famous story Cuore, for which he received the warm com- mendation of De Amicis himself; and to the Bo- logna exhibition of 1888 he contributed his Achille e Ettore, representing Achilles standing in his char- iot and dragging the dead body of Hector after him. These works viewed comprehensively convey to one’s mind the impression of an intensely vigo- rous temperament almost coarse in its masculine strength, and of a nature somewhat obtuse to nice- ties of expression and the more delicate shades of meaning. Some of the compositions just referred to were modelled at Florence and others at Urbino, where Ximenes accepted the directorship of the Academy of Fine Arts in 1885. He continued to hold this post at Urbino until 1894, when he resigned and REVOLUTION FROM THE PLASTER MODEL P.Y XIMENES i ' V • i ■'■a i ■i '.a ^ ,1 . C • X i ^1 I RECENT SCULPTORS. 91 removed to Rome where he has since resided. In 1887 (October 24), while he was still residing in the Marches, he won, in open competition, the commis- sion for the monument which the city of Milan pro- posed to erect to Garibaldi, and, while continuing to perform his duties as director of the Urbino Academy, he modelled the equestrian statue of the revolutionary leader which now crowns the summit of the lofty pedestal (designed by the architect Augusto Guidini) and the accessory figures of Revolution standing beside a lion, and Liberty with a vanquished tigress at her side, which are placed to the right and left of the pedestal on a lower level. The element of audacity in the sculp- tor’s artistic temperament found a very appropriate opportunity for displaying itself in the figure of Revolution. The photograph which is here pre- sented to the reader was taken from the original plaster model of the work in the artist’s studio before it was cast in bronze. It shows the broad modelling of Ximenes and the indifference to nicety of detail which were, as a rule, characteristic of his style up to this point. It also shows his inclination away from the standards of naturalism and the ten- dency to insist upon character rather than upon the literal imitation of objective facts, which allies him to the modern school rather than to the school of Vela. For example, no human being ever had, or ever could have, hair like that which Ximenes has given 192 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. to his figure of Revolution, but such a chevelure as that was necessary to the expression of his idea, and he unhesitatingly moulded the clay into the proper form to express his meaning. There is also an in- tentional disregard of the natural and reasonable in the way in which the figure is draped. The long cloth which is passed under the belt and brought up beneath the left arm is so placed that it would be impossible for the figure to advance a step without becoming entangled in her own garments; but the lines of the drapery as we see them arranged were essential to carry the line of the arm down to the ground and complete the powerful sweeping curve, extending from the torch to the pedestal, to which the work owes so much of its force. The Garibaldi monument was erected at Milan during the year 1895, in the Foro Bonaparte, at the end of the Via Dante, and was inaugurated on the third day of November. The same year Ximenes completed another important work, the mysterious Rmascita, which he contributed to the international art exposition held at Venice in 1895, and which was purchased by the government for the national collection of modern works of art at Rome. I speak of it as mysterious because it in- augurated such a striking departure from the style which he had adopted in so many of his previous works, and which reached its extreme, perhaps, in the figure of the dead Cmsar lying beside the over- turned chair. The idea which he undertook to RECENT SCULPTORS. 93 present in the Rinascita was apparently the re- vival of the arts in the fifteenth century, and this subject was interpreted by a graceful figure of a woman, with features suggesting the type used by Perugino, poised upon a fragment of mediaeval sculpture. Delicacy was the dominant note in this work, and delicacy had not been the marked feat- ure in Ximenes’ production as a whole up to this point. On the evidence of this creation, one would be disposed to regard his talent as one of unusually wide range, enabling him to move surely through all the nicer gradations of art- expression, as well as through the field of sub- jects calling for the boldest exercise of masculine strength in their interpretation. While he was director of the Academy at Urbino, Ximenes delivered a lecture on the history of the fine arts which was privately printed in 1891, and which contains an interesting exposition of his per- sonal views. He has, as one would naturally ex- pect, nothing but blame for Canova, but praises Bartolini as the foremost sculptural genius of the century. In his review of the arts of the earlier periods he has a word or two to say in praise of Bernini, which I believe to be almost the first utterance in commendation of that much-abused artist which has appeared in print in Italy for a hundred years. In his own appreciation of strong character, and his effort to secure that quality rather than a literal reproduction of nature in his 194 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. works, Ximenes was naturally led to see the merits of what Bernini accomplished. And being the soul of candor, he could not help expressing it. His frank utterance of his opinion, like the indirect utterance of the same idea involved in the work of some of his southern contemporaries, seems to round out the orbit of sculptural change, and bring it back to the very verge of the starting-point from which it took its departure at the dawn of the classic revival. CHAPTER VI. RECENT SCULPTORS OF CENTRAL ITALY. Sculptors at Rome since the death of Tenerani. — Succession of Mo7iteve7'de io the primacy. — The ideas which he represents. — His early studies and first works. — Reminiscences of one of his pupils. — The Young Columbus and Genius of Franklin. — Other novel inventions and their effect in bringing Monteverde to the front. — Hostility of the old school. — The Bellini monument and other works produced after his style had reached maturity. — Eques- trian monument to Victor Emmanuel. — Important works completed by Monteverde since 1890 . — Etto7'e Fe7'7‘a7'i. — Character of his early work. ■ — His mature creations. — Statues of Ovid and of Gior- dano Bruno. — Other work of Ferrari. — Comments on the statue of Lincoln now at New York. — Character of Ferrari’s talent. — E7'cole Rosa and his work. — Notes as to other Roman sculptors. — Sculp- tors and sculpture at Florence. — Comments on the sculptural decorations of the modern facade of the cathedral. — Pupils of Dupre and their work. — Tito Sa7'7'occhi, his early struggles and emigration to Florence. — General survey of his career. — E77iilio Zocchi and his figure of Michelangelo as a boy. — Cesa7‘e and A7'7ialdo Zocchi. — Other Tuscan families which have produced two generations of sculptors. — Cesa7'c Fa7itachiotti. — The younger Ro77ia7telli. — E77iilio Gallo7'i. — His early work. — The monument to Garibaldi inaugurated at Rome in 1895 . — Angiisto Rivalta. — His success in the modelling of portrait-statues. — The figure of Niccolini in the National Gallery. — T7'e7ita7iove and Testi. In taking up the subject of the sculptors at Rome I feel obliged to mention first of all the name of an artist who is not Roman at all, but Ligurian — Giulio Monteverde — because in a certain sense he 95 196 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. became the leader of the reaction against Tenerani and his school, and the champion of the art-move- ment which drove out of favor the ideas which had been dominant there since the death of Canova. In short, I should be tempted to select three talented men as in a certain sense personifying the three principal movements of the century as they devel- oped themselves at Rome ; and these three men would be Canova, Tenerani, and Monteverde. They were not all equally great, but in each one of them the current of the art-ideas of the time ran strong and full. Their convictions were clear and their course free from hesitation and uncertainty. What may be called Monteverde’s class-form of expression is naturalism ; his individual talent is brilliant, vivacious, complacent. Born in the little village of Bistagno, in the province of Liguria, his early studies were pursued under Santo Varni in the Genoa Academy, and his first important work was a cmiasa in wood-carving executed from the designs of Varni for the choir stalls of the Genoa cathedral. Winning the Durazzo prize and remov- ing to Rome prior to 1866, he modelled there in that year a group of the Wise and Foolish Virgins which was sent back as an envoi to the Ligurian Academy — a work which undoubtedly reflected the style of his early instruction, and which accorded so exactly with the taste of certain members of the Genoese Societa Promotrice that they caused it to be lithographed at the society’s expense. The RECENT SCULPTORS. 197 original plaster group, deposited originally no doubt in some storeroom of the Academy, has passed out of sight and perhaps out of existence. “ When he first came to Rome,” says Giovanni Scarfi, — one of his pupils, — “ Monteverde had a wife and children, was without means and needed time for study, and money to pay for models and materials, beside supporting his family. It occurred to him to make a group of two children playing with a kitten, using his own little girls as models ; and upon sending it to an exposition at Munich it took a gold medal. He sold the medal, took the money to pay for the marble, for the wages of his assistants, and for studio rent, and was as poor as before. But he went on industriously and persist- ently with his studies, and success could not wait, as in fact it did not wait long, to knock at his door; for it came with the exhibition of his figure of Columbus as a boy, which made his name known everywhere.” A marble copy of the first of the two works which Scarfi alludes to — the group of the sculptor’s children — is in the public collection at the Palazzo Bianco in Genoa : a perfectly natural group with all the charm of healthful, merry childhood, and nothing more. The Young Columbus, which was, I believe, the prototype of the Young Dante of Civiletti, may be now seen in the original plaster, in the Royal Gallery at Parma, having been pre- sented to the gallery by the sculptor himself. It 198 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. was originally exhibited at the national Italian ex- position held at Parma in 1870, and was accorded by a slightly reluctant jury one of the government medals, upon the urgent solicitation ot the painter Federigo Cortese, supported by some other jurors who appreciated the element of novelty in Monte- verde’s conception. The statue represented a boy of about fourteen in a tight jacket and long hose, seated upon a mooring post with a portola 7 io, or compendium of marine information, in his hands. Owing in part to the award, which gave what may be called a hall-mark to the work, and owing in part to the genuine appeal which it made to the taste of the Italian public, sated as it was at that time with the work of the purists, Monteverde be- came, as Giovanni Scarfi in substance says, imme- diately famous ; and I may add that he built upon this first success with such intimate knowledge of the taste of his own public as to strengthen and increase it — reaching in the course of a veiy few years a reputation more extended than that of any other sculptor of the Roman group. The Genius of Franklin, which immediately fol- lowed the Columbus, stands upon the parapet of Monteverde’s studio in the Piazza dell’ Indipen- denza at Rome silhouetted against the sky. It was originally shown to the public at the Milan exposi- tion of 1872, and a version of it in marble was purchased by the Khedive of Egypt, who bestowed upon its author the cross of an Egyptian order. RECENT SCULPTORS. 99 The third work of this first series, a group repre- senting Dr. Jenner vaccinating his child, formed Monteverde’s contribution to the Vienna exposi- tion of 1873. Afterward the Duchess of Galliera ordered it in marble, and this marble version passed after her death into the collection at the Palazzo Bianco at Genoa, where it still remains. The face of Jenner in this group is Monteverde’s most intel- lectual work, and the only one, so far as I am aware, in which he has represented the human mind in searching, querying, aspiring action. I add the last word because there is indisputably an element of aspiration in Jenner’s troubled, anxious face ; and it is naturally and properly there, since it was the longing to test the merit of a great dis- covery which induced him to perform the danger- ous experiment. Intellectual aspiration is not in Monteverde’s natural repertory of subjects ; and the Jenner group stands out, for this reason, quite apart from the rank and file of his productions. The mental states which are compatible with at least a moderate degree of self-satisfaction come more naturally within the limit of his sympathies ; and the physique which goes with a complacent mental state — well-rounded limbs, a well-nurtured physical system, and a smooth brow — naturally constitutes the complementary trait of this artist’s form of expression. The partisans of Tenerani who, we must not for- get, still lingered at Rome after the master’s death. 200 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. looked upon Monteverde’s work with alarm and upon his evident personal success with something like bitterness. One of the most outspoken of them devoted an extended pamphlet, published in 1879, to a review of the younger artist’s produc- tions in which the tone is by no means that of dispassionate criticism. Monteverde’s Genius of Franklin is compared to a pigeon upon a spit, in allusion to the lightning rod beside which the aerial sprite hovers ; and I might quote other comments in the same spirit if it were not better to overlook such utterances, spoken in moments of mental excitement, and perhaps of natural regret at seeing what the writer felt to be a noble form of art superseded by one which he regarded as lacking both in beauty of form and in spiritual elevation. Monteverde’s progress toward the pri- macy among the Roman sculptors went on steadily, despite the attacks made upon him, and was abun- dantly marked by open and outward signs of success. Commissions multiplied. In 1878 the government appointed him one of the commis- sioners to look after the interests of Italian sculpt- ure at the French universal exposition of that year, virtually making him the representative of Roman sculpture at Paris. And with success came wealth and the means to build the ample and con- venient, not to say stately, studio-residence which he has for many years occupied on the Piazza del- rindipendenza at Rome — a house whose founding RECENT SCULPTORS. 201 was made the excuse for a public gathering of his large circle of admiring friends, and for festivities which Giovanni Scarfi still remembers. Monteverde seemed to succeed not only to the place of Tenerani but also to that of Dupre, — the only surviving leader of the school of the purists who enjoyed a national reputation. The facts which justify this statement are found in Dupre’s own autobiography, where he recounts how the commission for the large monument to the com- poser Bellini at Catania was withdrawn from him and turned over to the Ligurian sculptor. I may say here, to complete what there is to be said on the subject of this monument, that it stands in the Piazza Stesicorea at Catania and that it consists of five statues : one of the composer seated in a chair, and four of leading characters in his principal operas standing on the four sides of the pedestal upon which the portrait-statue is placed. The various figures are modelled strictly according to the prin- ciples of Vela, and the most interesting of the subsidiary statues is that of the Puritan (in I Pur i- tani). The ensemble is not particularly pleasing, owing to the meagreness of the pedestal and its general defectiveness measured by the standards of good decorative design. The statues make a much better appearance taken separately, as they stand (in the original models) against the dark walls of one of the large rooms of the sculptor’s studio at Rome. Other works, produced after INIonteverde’s posi- 202 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. tion had become established, are the statue of the pianist Thalberg in the Villa Nazionale at Naples, and the figure of the Tessitore (Weaver) at the entrance of the Rossi textile mills at Schio : both of them modelled in the strictest accord with the principles of Vela, and representing living individ- uals turned into marble without the slightest mate- rial departure from the original model. The Weaver holds a shuttle in his hand, and has a pile of rolls of cloth at his side instead of the conventional tree trunk. Thalberg stands with one hand in his pocket and his support is a piano-stool. If no accident befalls them, these works will some day be of rare interest as giving a perfectly accurate idea of the exact personal appearance of the factory operative and the piano virtuoso in the nineteenth century. Monteverde is the author of many sepulchral monuments, not all of them equally acceptable to the non-Italian taste. In some of them there are introduced, however, accessory figures in which the note of tranquillity, serenity, and spiritual elevation is emphasized, and the tendency toward the spectral and ghastly most agreeably held in check. I have selected for reproduction here a group of the Madonna and Child, forming part of the Balduino monument in the Camposanto at Genoa, which shows Monteverde in one of his best moments. The face of the Madonna wears an expression of gentle serenity ; that of the Child is grave and MADONNA AND CHILD FROM THE MARBLE BY MONTPA’ERDE IN THE CAMBOSANTO, GENOA t ”'1 I J •r f ' i RECENT SCULPTORS. 203 benignant, but not unchildlike. Undoubtedly there is a trace of conventionality, and perhaps more than a trace, in some of the details of the work, but not to the point of crushing the freshness and spirit out of it. The lesser accessories are partly new, partly old; the draperies of the Madonna, for example, belong to the same order as those of Barabino’s famous Madonna at Monza which first became known to the Italian public in 1887. The canopied chair is very old, but of a type of which one does not easily tire. I ought to add that in the rest of the monument there is nothino- which O could offend the most susceptible taste, the only other feature of the work being a sarcophagus of severe design placed directly below the marble group. Monte verde’s bronze equestrian statue of Victor Emmanuel commanding the Italian troops at the battle of S. Martino (Solferino), which stands in the great square in the centre of the city of Bologna, was inaugurated in 1888, at the time of the octo- centennial celebration of the founding of the Uni- versity. The poet Carducci helped to immortalize it by a passage in an oration (which has since be- come a classic) in which he characterized it as rivalling the antique in merit — “insigne opera d’arte non inferiore all’antica.” The original plaster model occupies the centre of one of the large halls of the sculptor’s studio at Rome, but is inferior to the finished work. The latter being cast in bronze by 204 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. the cire perdue process, required a second modelling of the statue in wax, giving the artist an opportunity to revise the first version ; and in doing this he improved on the modelling of the face. In January of the next year (1889), after the inauguration of this monument, Monteverde received the title of senator from the king, the highest honor which his sovereign could bestow upon him. Several other large works have been brought to completion by Monteverde in the last few years : the large bronze monument commemorating the munificent gift of the Duke of Galliera to the city of Genoa for the improvement of the harbor, a monument already nearly completed in the original clay before the end of the year 1891, but which was not finished in bronze and erected in the posi- tion which it now occupies on the water front near the railway station at Genoa until 1896; the statue of Marco Minghetti inaugurated at Bologna in June, 1896; and the large bronze monument to the Duchess of Galliera (five figures) erected near the Galliera hospital at Genoa in June, 1898. None of these works indicate that their author has been in the least shaken in his fidelity to his early aesthetic creed by any of the new ideas which have been brought forward during the last ten or fifteen years. The statue of Minghetti conforms as closely to the principles of Vela — even to the carelessness of the position and the neglige manner in which the over- coat is thrown over the arm — as the earlier repre- RECENT SCULPTORS. 205 sentation of Thalberg; and the recent monument to the Duchess of Galliera is an equally uncompro- mising example of naturalistic art. Ettore Ferrari of Rome has produced several admirable works, the only feature or element in his production which fails to appeal to persons not of the Latin races being the occasional touch of what I may call super-emotionalism, which one notes in some of his subjects. His perceptions are particu- larly keen, and his modelling is accurate, sensitive, and carried to a minuteness of detail which we do not always find in the work of his contemporaries. Ferrari is one of the few eminent sculptors of the Roman group who is a Roman by birth, and whose whole life has been passed in the eternal city. He was born there in 1849, received his technical and artistic education in Roman schools and from Roman teachers, and has found no other art centre sufficiently attractive to draw him away from the scene of his earl}^ work and early successes. One of his earliest works — a statue of the mediae- val republican leader Stefano Porcari — was exhib- ited at Naples in 1S77 at the same exposition at which Franceschi’s Opimia, D’Orsi’s Parassiti, and Civiletti’s Young Caesar were shown to the public. Porcari, who lived at Rome in the fifteenth century, attempted to wrest the temporal sovereignty from the hands of the pope and to set up a republican form of government. He is represented by Ferrari as about to lead his followers in an assault upon 206 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. the Capitol and holds a drawn sword in his hand. The work did not become popular and still remains in plaster, but it had two distinct merits — an avoid- ance of the commonplace in the subject and acces- sories, and exceptional force and truthfulness in expression. At the same time and place Ferrari exhibited his statue of Foscolo’s melancholy hero, Jacopo Ortis, lying dead in his chair from a self-inflicted wound, showing in its most unpleasing form the sculptor’s tendency toward super-emotional subjects. The original plaster of this work stands now in the centre of the entrance hall of its author’s residence at Rome, and has, I think, never been repeated in marble or bronze. Three years later (1880), at the Turin ex- position, Ferrari again came before the public with still another appeal to the same class of emotions, the work representing a Roman slave bound to a cross while a young girl stands upon tiptoe to press a kiss upon his lips. The success of a somewhat similar work by the French sculptor Barrias proves that creations of this character have something about them which appeals to the Latin taste ; but I am compelled to repeat, what has been already several times asserted, that to the non-Latin taste they are as a rule repellent. They make us realize that the field of art has geographical divisions, and that what is good in one place is not necessarily good in another. Going on with Ferrari’s productions in chrono- OVID FROM THE MARBLE BY FERRARI '.S 5 ' * — -s.. 1 RECENT SCULPTORS. 207 logical order, we come to the fine standing figure of Ovid, of which the final version is in Roumania, while the original plaster model remains in the sculptor’s studio at Rome. Serenity is the domi- nant note of the expression and of the pose, but the work is not for that reason cold or apathetic. Ferrari has succeeded, where Vela did not always succeed, in conveying the idea of an alert and active intelligence behind a face in repose. To the student of the history of art the work in its mere externals is full of interest because of the illustration which it furnishes of the use of classic accessories without conforming to the classic formula. A glance at the naturalistic detail of the nude portions of the figure and of the draperies is sufficient to show that the statue is neither an antique nor a product of the school of Canova, and that it could only have been created by an artist working in our own time in conformity with the principles which have been developed in the last thirty years. The standing figure of the medieval philosopher, Giordano Bruno, completed by Ferrari in 1889, is perhaps of even greater interest than the statue of Ovid, and has I think been more widely admired than any other monument of similar character erected in Rome since 1870. The place assigned to it was the centre of the Campo di Fiori, where Bruno was burned as a heretic in 1600. The great thinker stands in perfect repose, with his hands crossed upon a book which he holds before him. 2o8 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. He wears the habit of the Dominican order, of which he was a member, and has the cowl drawn over his head. Under all ordinary lights the face is much in shadow, and looks out from the half gloom much as Bruno himself looks out to us from the shadow of a half-forgotten past. More study of the face discloses that it is furrowed with deep lines, suggesting like the long bony fingers a tem- perament in which the intelligence kept the body under, and in which the spiritual dominated the physical nature. On the pedestal are three bas- reliefs by Ferrari, representing important moments in Bruno’s history, and on the fourth side there is a laconic inscription reciting the date of the erec- tion of the monument, and referring to Bruno’s martyrdom on the same spot. Ferrari is the author of many other works, in- cluding an important equestrian statue of Victor Emmanuel, with two accessory figures on the Riva at Venice, a monument to the statesman Quintino Sella at Rome, a monument to Terenzio Mamiani at Pesaro, a colossal ideal figure of Ancient Latium for the frieze of the national monument to Victor Emmanuel, — now in process of erection on the Capi- toline hill at Rome, — and a seated statue of Abra- ham Lincoln at present among the marbles in the Metropolitan Museum at New York. This last work is not calculated to give so favorable an idea of his powers as the Ovid or Bruno, for reasons which have already been referred to in connection RECENT SCULPTORS. 209 with other works. Lincoln is represented the mo- ment after his assassination in an attitude not widely different from that which the same sculp- tor adopted in his earlier statue of Jacopo Ortis. Certain minor details of the work are historically not quite accurate. The president, as it happens, was seated in a rocking chair at the moment when the fatal bullet took effect, and his dress was not the same as that in which he is portrayed. On the other hand, in order not to do the sculptor in- justice, let me say that Ferrari could not have known these details, and was not bound to repro- duce them if he did know them ; and further, let me add, that the likeness (which I am informed was taken from an engraving) is more than fairly good, and the expression painfully true. The statue of Ancient Latium, which was completed in clay in 1891, is a majestic and noble figure, wearing an archaic helmet, holding a staff, and looking out wonderingly from deep-set eyes, like some being of the age of giants suddenly awakened to the con- templation of a petty modern world. Ferrari is a man of more progressive ideas and of higher culture than Italian sculptors as a rule. He has given proof of his progressive tendencies of thought by taking an interest in public questions at Rome, and the public have indicated their ap- preciation of his exceptional mental qualities by electing him a member of the Roman municipal legislative body, and also by giving him a seat in 210 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. the national parliament. He has shown his higher culture by taking an interest in literature outside of the narrow range of subjects to which Italian sculptors usually confine their thoughts, and took an important part in the movement at Rome, in 1893, to do honor to Shelley, a movement which resulted in the placing of a lyre in bronze, modelled with exquisite taste by Ferrari himself, on the tomb of the poet in the protestant cemetery. Ercole Rosa, another member of the Roman group of sculptors, recently deceased, was regarded in Italy as a man of exceptional talent, and seems in two of his works — the group of the Cairoli brothers on the Pincian hill at Rome and the Victor Emmanuel monument in the Piazza del Duomo at Milan — to have justified the high estimate that was formed of his powers. Rosa was born within the temporal dominions of the pope at S. Severino in the Marches in 1846, and was educated, so far as he received any education at all, in an orphan asylum at Rome, where he was placed after the early death of his parents. It is said, I do not know with how^ much truth, that his talent for modelling was first discovered by the amateurs in sculpture at Rome, who found it convenient to utilize the boy’s talent in helping themselves on with their own work without giving him credit for his collaboration. I have seen no dated list of his productions, but it is evident from a brief (and favorable) review of his work published at Rome, RECENT SCULPTORS. 21 1 in 1875, that there were then in existence the Psyche deserted by Cupid, the bust of Manzoni, now in the National Gallery of Modern Art, and the group of the Cairoli brothers now on the Pincio. This last work seems to be an attempt to put an actual historical fact into bronze without the addi- tion of a single imaginative detail. Rosa was of course obliged to arrive at his knowledge of the relative positions of the two men by a process of reasoning, inasmuch as the younger brother, Enrico, died on the spot ; and it does not appear that the elder, Giovanni, who died in 1869, ever gave the sculptor any confidences beyond those contained in his published account of the tragedy of Villa Glori. In saying that there are no imaginative details I mean, therefore, that the work is a con- sistent piece of naturalism, representing two men exactly according to their natural figures and ex- pressions and their actual dress, without idealiza- tion. One of the features of the monument, which almost every one notices, is the small scale of the figures; but I cannot feel that in this case it in- volves any aesthetic mistake. The group is placed on a very low pedestal and very near the observer, and under such circumstances there appears to be no reason for giving the figures colossal proportions. The bust of Manzoni in the National Gallery of Modern Art at Rome is a half figure rather than a bust, and represents the famous author in advanced 212 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. age with a benign expression of countenance. In the same room is a nude female figure, holding a bow in her hand and with a dead animal at her feet, which is also by Rosa, and which is called II simbolo della caccia. The Victor Emmanuel monument at Milan was commissioned in 1879, and was in process of elaboration in Rosa’s studio for fourteen years, remaining still uncompleted in some details of the accessories at the time of his death, October ii, 1893. That it should be placed in the Piazza del Duomo at Milan seems perfectly natural from the Italian point of view, though it seems to the for- eigner slightly out of place in a square which re- ceives its character from a cathedral of the Gothic period, and which would more appropriately furnish a site for a statue of one of the Visconti or Sforza. The king is represented as reining in his horse, and is in a position which is inclined in two planes, that is to say, the figure leans backward and also to one side. Viewed from the corner of the Via Carlo Alberto, where the coup d’oeil is perhaps the most effective, the horse and rider seem to be battling against some invisible force, like a ship struggling to make headway against a tempest. The four- sided bronze relief on the pedestal, which was cast in a single piece to prevent the possible opening of fissures, represents the triumphal entry of the Italian and French troops into Milan after the battle of Magenta in June, 1859. Of the two colossal lions in white marble — now rather too white for the RECENT SCULPTORS. 213 harmony of the effect — one holds the shield of the House of Savoy, and the other a shield inscribed with the word Roma. The monument was un- veiled June 24, 1896, three years after the sculptor’s death. Rosa had one of the unfortunate symptoms of genius in being incapable of steady application. He could work only when the mood seized him, and this explains the many delays which intervened be- tween the original commissioning of this particular monument and its advancement to the point where he left it in 1893.^ ^ The present Roman group of sculptors includes many men who have come there from other parts of Italy, such as Chiaradia, Gallori, Mac- cagnani, and Zocchi, who are referred to in other places in this volume, and of whom it is unnecessary to speak in this immediate connection. Others, not mentioned, are Adolfo Apolloni^ author of a number of works shown at the Chicago exposition of 1893 : a delicately modelled head of a young girl in very low relief, entitled Beatrice ; a nude figure with a telephone, supposed to symbolize America ; a design in plaster for a monumental fountain, and busts of Mr. Depew and Mrs. Julia Ward Howe ; Gaetano Russo j author of the Columbus monument at Eighth Avenue and Fifty-ninth Street in New York ; Filippo Cifa^'idlo., author of the group of Christ and the Magdalen in the National Gallery at Rome ; and Gudio Tadolini^ author of a statue of Silvio Spaventa in- augurated April 21, 1898, and of a number of other works executed for foreign patrons. Cifariello seems to be at present passing through an initial phase something like that which in the career of Ettore Ferrari was marked by the production of the Ortis and Cum Spartaco pugna- vit ; and his work is not therefore, at present, particularly pleasing to the non-Italian taste. Giulio Tadolini is an artist by descent, his father, Scipionc Tadolini, and his grandfather, Adamo Tadolini, having both been sculptors. The latter, who was born in 1789 and lived until 1868, was a pupil of Canova, and assisted his master in carving the figure of Religion for the monument to Clement XIII in St. Peter’s, and the statues of Pius VI and of Washington. One of the principal works of his son Scipione — a marble group representing St. Michael triumphing 214 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. The work of the Tuscan sculptors of the last twenty-five years is widely scattered, and I do not know where much of it can be seen brought together in any one place, except on the modern front of the Florence cathedral, which was built between 1875 and 1887, and which is elaborately decorated with sculptural work by contemporary artists.^ Not all over Satan — is now in the Gardner Brewer house at Boston. Orazio Andreoni is the author of a number of works now owned in England and America, among them being a bust of Colonel Franklin Fairbanks, and a marble figure of Ruth, now in the possession of Mrs. Frank H. Brooks. ^ The statues of the frieze are by the following sculptors, com- mencing at the left as one faces the cathedral : I. St. Matthew, by August© Passaglia. 2. St. Bartholomew, by Cesare Fantacchiotti. 3. St. Philip, by Luigi Cartei. 4. St. James the Great, by Pietro Costa. 5. St. Andrew, by Raffaello Pagliaccetti. 6. St. Peter, by Emilio Gallori. 7. Madonna and Child, by Tito Sar- rocchi. 8. St. John, by Cesare Zocchi. 9. St. Thomas, by Paga- nucci. 10. St. James the Less, by Antonio Bortone. ii. Simon, by Rinaldo Carnielo. 12. Judas, by Urban© Lucchesi. 13. St. Matthew, by Ettore Ximenes. The statues in the lower niches of the buttresses are by the following sculptors : I. Cardinal Valerian!, by Salvino Salvini. 2. Bishop Agostino Tinacci, by Ulisse Cambi. 3. Pope Eugenius IV, by Vincenzio Con- sani. 4. Sant’ Antonino, by Antonio Bortone. August 0 Passaglia^ who was born at Lucca in 1838, and who studied at Florence under Dupre, contributed a larger number of works to the decoration of the fa9ade of the cathedral than any other one sculptor. The large relief in the gable above the central door is by him, as are also the statue of St. Matthew at the left end of the upper frieze and many of the minor sculptures, such as the Ecce Homo in the gable over the left portal. The same artist has also recently been selected to design the bronze doors for the central entrance and for one of the minor entrances, and has composed them in a style slightly suggestive of that of Ghiberti, though the two middle panels of each door are thrown together, making one long vertical compartment instead of RECENT SCULPTORS. 215 of this work is of equal merit. A careful study of the statues in the various niches leads one to the conclusion that the two outer figures in the lower zone — those of Cardinal Valerian! by Salvini and of Sant’ Antonino by Bortone — are the most richly charged with vitality, and that the statues of the frieze of the apostles have, as a whole, the least of that quality. Indeed, I imagine that even the sculp- tors themselves who modelled the various statues of the frieze would not wish to have their work judged by too exacting a standard. They were evidently instructed, collectively, to model something which should be robust and massive in character, of just such a height, and of just such a breadth, and they were either told or agreed among themselves to use, in the way of draperies, something which should not conspicuously differ from the flowing draperies used by the artists of the renaissance. Following these general rules, they modelled a series of works which produce a harmonious general effect, but which do not in any individual case show any very distinct traces of inspiration, or indicate the expenditure of much thought. I can hardly believe that the connoisseurs of any future generation will insist upon taking them down from their niches and placing reproductions of them in their galleries three square ones. This last feature, probably adopted for the sake of not following the baptistery doors too closely, has forced upon the author a high and narrow panel, which does not lend itself so easily to successful treatment as a square, and which, in the published design, does not seem to be very felicitously handled. 2i6 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. and museums, as connoisseurs of our own time have done with the statues in the niches of Or San Michele. In justice to the sculptors who designed the vari- ous statues of this frieze, it should be said, however, that most of them are the authors of other works of much superior merit. Tito Sarrocchi, who de- signed the group of the Madonna and Child in the central tabernacle, modelled a group, representing Tobias lowering the body of a youth into the grave, now in one of the chapels of the Cimitero della Misericordia at Siena, which is novel in compo- sition, and shows much careful research in expres- sion, with finely accurate results. Sarrocchi, who was born at Siena in 1824, was obliged to struggle with many hardships in his boyhood, receiving no real encouragement until about 1840, when he be- came a pupil of Dupre at Florence. Dupre put him forward, and obtained for him the commission for one of the bas-reliefs of the modern front of the church of S. Croce, that over the door of the left aisle, representing the Finding of the Cross. In 1855 Sarrocchi left Florence to finish some works left uncompleted by the Sienese sculptor Becheroni, and continued to reside at Siena after that date. The group of the Madonna and Child for the front of the Florence cathedral is composed with some reference to the primitive Tuscan style as illustrated by the fresco of the same subject by Cimabue in the church of S. Maria Novella. The commission for RECENT SCULPTORS. 217 this work, which was regarded as the principal piece of sculpture on the fa9ade, was originally assigned to Dupre, and fell by inheritance after his death to his oldest pupil. References to Sarrocchi are fre- quent in Dupre’s autobiography, and it is evident that the master entertained for him all the affection which he would have felt for a son. At the time of assigning to Sarrocchi the commis- sion for the bas-relief of the Finding of the Cross, Dupre gave to another of his pupils, Emilio Zocchi, the commission for the relief representing the Vision of Constantine, which was completed at the same time and placed in the lunette over the door of the right aisle of the church of S. Croce. Zocchi’s name is, I think, now rather better known abroad than that of his fellow-pupil, principally because of the remarkable popularity of a small work repre- senting Michelangelo as a boy (carving the face of a satyr upon a block of stone upon which he is seated), which was purchased by Victor Emmanuel, and of which over a hundred replicas were after- ward sold. Zocchi was born at Elorence March 5, 1835, and studied at the Elorence Academy before becoming a pupil of Dupre. Beside the works to which I have referred, he is the author of a statue of Franklin at New York, and of the equestrian Victor Emmanuel recently erected in the new piazza of the same name formed on the site of the Mercato V ecchio at Florence. A son of the artist of whom I have just been 2I8 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. speaking, Arnaldo Zocchi, born at Florence Sep- tember 20, 1862, and now established at Rome, attracted favorable notice a few years ago by a statue of the early Tuscan painter Piero della Francesca, erected at the latter’s birthplace, Borgo S. Sepolcro, in 1892. The work was noticeable as not conforming either to the principles of Dupre or of Vela. Zocchi modelled his subject in a long full robe of stiff material, which gave the statue as a whole an unusual contour, and he designed the face in a bold, robust style, which strikingly discriminated it from the nice finish of Dupre, and equally from the close anatomical study of the naturalistic school. In 1894 the same artist completed a sculptural group of several allegorical figures for the Brisse monu- ment at the Campo Verano at Rome, and in 1898 received the commission for an important monu- ment to be erected at the city of Altamura, in southern Italy, to commemorate the defence of the town in 1799. Another sculptor of the same family, Cesare Zocchi (born at Florence June 7, 1851), has helped to make the name familiar to persons in- terested in modern Italian art by modelling several large monumental works : a statue of Garibaldi standing in the square of the same name at Perugia, a statue of Victor Emmanuel for the city of Pisa, and an important monument to Dante, completed in 1896, which was commissioned by the town of Trent in the Tyrol. Cesare Zocchi also modelled several of the minor sculptural decorations of the RECENT SCULPTORS. 219 modern fa9ade of the Florence cathedral, and de- signed the colossal statue of St. John occupying the niche directly at the right of the group of the Madonna and Child. The Zocchi family is not the only one at Florence which has produced two generations of sculptors. We have also the Fantacchiotti, the Romanelli, and the case already mentioned of the Dupre. Amalia Dupre, daughter of Giovanni Dupre, modelled the figure of S. Zanobi which occupies the niche at the right of the central door as one enters the cathe- dral, and enlarged, with the addition of many impor- tant new details, the sketch-model of the statue of S. Reparata originally prepared by her father, which now occupies the niche directly opposite on the left side of the door. Cesare Fantacchiotti (born in 1844), son of Odoardo Fantacchiotti, is the author of the statue of St. Bartholomew in the cathedral frieze occupying the second niche from the left end, one of the best in the series ; also of a statue of the Tuscan poet and patriot Giuseppe Giusti, erected at his birthplace in Monsummano, of the monument to his father at S. Miniato, of many portrait-busts, and of several imaginative compositions. The pres- ent sculptor of the name of Romanelli bears the Christian name of Raffaello, and is the son of Pas- quale Romanelli whom I have already referred to as being invariably characterized as the “ best pupil of Bartolini.” The elder Romanelli did not depart in any notable particulars, except in the abandon- 220 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. ment of classic draperies, from the principles ad- vocated by his great master, but the younger Romanelli has adapted himself, undoubtedly from conviction, to the taste of the day, producing a class of work which conforms quite closely to the prin- ciples laid down by Vela. Born at Florence May 13, 1856, he studied under his father and at the Florence Academy, of which he has since become himself a professor. His contribution to the decoration of the fa9ade of the Duomo was the statue of Pope Leo the Great, which fills a niche at the summit of one of the buttresses by the cen- tral door. After the death of his father he com- pleted a statue which the latter had commenced, representing the patriot and Roman triumvir (dur- ing the Mazzinian republic of 1849), Giuseppe Montanelli, which was inaugurated at the latter’s birthplace in the little Tuscan town of Fucecchio July 17, 1892. This work was followed by several other examples of monumental portraiture, such as the equestrian statue of Garibaldi erected on the Lizza, the favorite promenade at Siena, in Septem- ber, 1896, and the standing figure of the statesman Ubaldino Peruzzi, inaugurated in the Piazza del- rindipendenza at Florence April 27, 1898. The same year (1898) Romanelli won, in a competition, the commission for the monument to Carlo Alberto, which, when completed, will be erected in the Piazza deir Indipendenza at Rome. He had also completed, in 1896, a recumbent figure of Donatello for the RECENT SCULPTORS. 221 tomb of that artist in S. Lorenzo at Florence, which from an aesthetic point of view is much more interesting than any of the other works above re- ferred to. Emilio Gallon, a pupil of the Florence Academy, and the author of the colossal figure of St. Peter at the left of the Madonna and Child on the fa9ade of the cathedral, first began to attract notice about 1880 by some imaginative works exhibited at Turin. Three years later at Rome he exhibited a statue representing Dupre as a boy, commencing thus early to treat the geniuses of the next prior genera- tion as Monteverde had treated Columbus and as Civiletti had treated Dante. Entering the competi- tion for the Garibaldi monument at Rome his model received the highest award and he was commissioned to carry it into execution. The vast work includes not only an equestrian statue of Garibaldi himself, but four subordinate groups representing, on the end of the pedestal turned toward the city, the Defence of Rome in 1849, on the opposite end, soldiers of the Garibaldian legion, on the side toward S. Pietro in Montorio, Europe, and on the opposite side, America. So far as the general con- ception is concerned, this monument can hardly be regarded as strikingly novel. Possibly if Gallon had had the commission placed in his hands without conditions, and without being obliged to calculate as to the possible prejudices of a board of judges, he would have produced something perfectly fresh ; 222 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. but as it stands the differences which separate it from other Italian equestrian monuments to the heroes of the struggle for independence are differ- ences of degree rather than of kind. Instead, for example, of the single figures of soldiers which stand at the corners of the Carlo Alberto monument, de- signed many years ago by Marochetti for Turin, we have in this case groups of soldiers in excited action ; but further than this it is difficult to see that there is anything distinctly original in the ensemble of the work. In justice to the sculptor, I should state that under the same conditions none of his con- temporaries would have been apt to get farther away from routine, and should add still further that his technical mastery of his art, his ability to compose figures in strained attitudes with striking truthful- ness of movement and expression, is abundantly demonstrated by the bronze groups which ornament the pedestal. The monument was inaugurated September 20, 1895, and stands in a conspicuous position on the summit of the Janiculan hill. It assails the eye from every elevated point in Rome, and from the Ponte Garibaldi and certain parts of the quays along the Tiber it stands out against the sky with fairly startling distinctness. Portraiture has been made a specialty by many of the sculptors of the Tuscan group. Augusto Rivalta, a native of Genoa, but for many years a resident of Florence, is the author of a number of important statues of public men, and of a fine seated RECENT SCULPTORS. 223 figure of the poet Niccolini in the National Gallery of Modern Art at Rome. Another contemporary sculptor, who has exhibited a remarkable talent for portraiture, is Gaetano Trentanove, born at Flor- ence December 21, 1858, and a pupil of the Florence Academy. Among his works executed or commis- sioned prior to 1891, are a statue of Count Alfred Serristori for the Palazzo Serristori at Florence, a monument for the Fraschetti family at S. Miniato, a figure of Victor Hugo exhibited at Paris in 1889, and a statue of the mediaeval chronicler Villani for the Mercato Nuovo at Florence. Trentanove is also the author of several statues now in America, and has recently (1898) completed a bust of the Ameri- can statesman, James G. Blaine. I must also men- tion in this connection the name of Paolo Testi, whose busts and medallions have recently attracted the attention of connoisseurs. Testi is a pupil of the Florence Academy, and studied for a while in the school of painting before devoting himself to sculpture. Among the busts of this artist, which have been favorably noticed, are those of the modern Italian dramatist, Paolo Ferrari, and of the distin- guished painter, Niccolb Barabino. Accurate in- terpretation of character and delicacy of execution are the distinguishing features of his style. Testi has received the commission for a statue of Ghiberti for the Mercato Nuovo at Florence. CHAPTER VII. RECENT SCULPTORS OF NORTHERN ITALY. Sculptors at Milan. — Francesco Barzaghi and his early successes in imaginative sculpture. — His monumental works. — He is suc- ceeded in his professorship at the Academy by Enrico Butti. — Recent works by the latter. — Ghtlio Branca and his statue of Ros- munda. — Giuseppe Grandi. — His early studies. — Statue of Bec- caria. — He wins the competition for the monument to the revolution of the Five Days. — Comments on this work. — Peculiar quality of Grandi’s talent. — Lodovico Pogliaghi. — Versatility of his talent. — Question as to whether he should be classed among plastic or graphic artists. — His work as an illustrator. — He wins the commission for the bronze doors of the cathedral. — Comments on his design. — Notes on other sculptors at Milan. — Sculptors at Venice. — Antonio Dal Zotto. — His early studies at Venice and Rome. — His first works. — The general character of his style. — The statues of Titian and Goldoni. — Sonnet by Browning written for the dedication of the Goldoni monument. — Other works of Dal Zotto. — Statue of Victor Emmanuel in the tower on the battlefield of S. Martino. — Statue of Tartini at Pirano. — Notes on other Venetian sculptors. — Sculp- tors at Turin. — Odoardo Tabacchi 2016. his work. — Luigi Belli and the Raphael monument at Urbino. — Davide Calandra. The cathedral at Milan has, all through the cen- tury, furnished many commissions for Milanese sculp- tors ; but as I have already had occasion to say in speaking of the predecessors of the contemporary Milanese group, what has been done for that structure has, as a rule, contributed little to the individual repu- tation of the artists whose services have been placed 224 RECENT SCULPTORS. 225 under requisition. This is certainly true as to nearly all the statues on the exterior. They count virtually for nothing, taken singly, and simply help out the general aspect of infinite elaboration, which it has been sought to impress upon the church as a whole. One of the sculptors who falls into the line of suc- cession of Pacetti, Marchesi, Cacciatori, and Magni, in virtue of his having held for a number of years the position of director of the school of sculpture at the Brera, — Francesco Barzaghi, — made his first appearance professionally as a collaborator in the never-finished work of the decoration of the Duomo. His early statues of Sant’ Ilario, S. Venceslao, and S. Adelaide are lost somewhere on the pinnacles or in the niches of that great structure. Barzaghi, who was born at Milan February 10, 1839, sprang directly from the people, his father having been a carpenter; and he seems to have preserved to the end of his life the simplicity of character, the healthy satisfaction with commonplace things which were characteristic of his class. He began his art studies in 1851, when he was only twelve years old, com- mencing in that year to attend the evening school of decorative design at the Brera. Afterward, en- couraged no doubt by his masters and stimulated by his own ambitions, he turned his attention to sculpture and worked for some time under Giovanni Strazza, one of the most admired Lombard artists of this period, though less famous than his eminent 226 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. contemporary, Vincenzo Vela. In Caimi’s work on the artists of Lombardy, which was published in 1862, Barzaghi is mentioned simply as one of the young men of promise with reputations still to be made. If Caimi’s book had been published a year later, he would have mentioned Barzaghi’s Phryne, which was exhibited at the Brera in 1863, and which brought its author immediately into notice. A few years later (1869) the young sculptor achieved a marked popular success by another work exhibited at Milan, representing a child playing blindman’s- buff, and this was followed by several creations of the same sort : a figure of a child with an umbrella, of which twenty copies were sold, and another rep- resenting a little girl robed in a long dress looking over her shoulder at her trailing draperies with an expression of innocent vanity. Such simple con- ceptions appealed to the honest, frank, child-loving nature of the man, and they appealed also to the great mass of the people who shared his tempera- ment. I do not find that Barzaghi in any of his imaginative works ever got very far away from the sympathy of the masses. Themes, which required no education of the aesthetic taste for their appre- ciation, were the kind which he preferred to treat, and which he persistently adhered to in his ideal creations, to the end of his life. The really strong position which Barzaghi made for himself at Milan, and the respect in which he was held by the men who constitute the intellectual RECENT SCULPTORS. 227 force of the Lombard capital, was due largely to his serious works in portraiture, to his position at the Brera, and to his honest, manly personality. An equestrian statue of Napoleon III, which was cast in bronze from funds raised by popular subscription, and which has stood for many years in the court of the so-called Palazzo del Senato, while waiting to be assigned to some more worthy position, is his larg- est monumental work. Other statues by Barzaghi at Milan are those of Manzoni in the Piazza S. Fedele back of the Palazzo Marino, of Pompeo Litta on the staircase of the Brera, of Francesco Hayez in the small piazza by the side of the Brera, and of Verdi in the atrium of the theatre of La Scala. These works are all executed strictly according to the principles of Vela, so far as the literal imitation of the features, the figure, and the dress of the subject are concerned ; but they are free from the tendency, which Vela sometimes ex- hibited, toward an exaggerated carelessness of pose. The statue of Hayez, which was inaugurated Feb- ruary 10, 1890, is a plain, honest reproduction of the veteran painter as he appeared when working in his studio, without the slightest attempt to infuse any spirituality into the expression, or to remove the work in any way from the literal record of an every-day fact. Upon the death of Barzaghi, which occurred August 21, 1892, he was succeeded in the direction of the school of sculpture at the Brera after an in- 228 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. terregnum of a few months by Enrico Butti (born at Viggiu in the province of Como in 1847), who was appointed February 19, 1893. Butti had not, down to 1897, produced any work which had partic- ularly appealed to the taste of foreign connoisseurs, but in the latter year exhibited at the Milan trien- nial exposition a figure of a mediaeval warrior by which he affirmed at once his right to be regarded as the possessor of exceptional talent, and came forth in a single stride from the obscurity which had before that rested upon him and his works. The grim figure of this soldier of the dark ages was intended to impersonate the captain or one of the comrades of that heroic band, called the compagnia della morte, which fought so heroically against Bar- barossa at the battle of Legnano, and his face as well as his shirt of mail and his battered shield were of that strange archaic type which sends a shiver through one’s muscles by its almost uncanny evoca- tion of a forgotten past. Let me mention in this same connection another contemporary Lombard artist, Giulio Branca (born at Cannobio in 1851), who has been accorded the highest praise by con- noisseurs for a work upon another mediaeval sub- ject. I refer to the marble figure of Rosmunda, the heroine of one of the most tragic dramas in Lom- bard history, who is portrayed at the moment of raising to her lips the cup made of her father’s skull. The conflict of the two emotions which the situation inspired seemed to me to be most success- RECENT SCULPTORS. 229 fully rendered, the quivering of the nostrils showing her repugnance at touching the ghastly cup, and the tense muscles of the left arm and hand indicat- ing her determination to be revenged upon those who had forced this indignity upon her. Giuseppe Grandi, regarded five years ago as one of the most promising sculptors of the Lombard group, now an extinguished luminary, is known virtually by a single work, the unique monument to the Milanese revolution of the Five Days (March 18-22, 1848), which rises in the Piazzale di Porta Vittoria, one of the squares in the eastern circuit of boulevards at Milan, virtually unknown to the for- eio:ner. Grandi was born at Valganna near Varese in 1845, studied at Milan and afterward at Turin, attracted to the latter place by the fame of Vincenzo Vela, whose pupil he became. Return- ing to Milan he obtained (about 1870) in a competi- tion the commission for the monument to the jurist Beccaria, which now stands in the square of the same name near the Palace of Justice at Milan. After that he remained virtually in obscurity until 1881, when the singular bozzetto submitted by him in the competition for the monument to the Cinque Giornate won the sympathy of the jury and secured him the commission for the work. Thirteen years afterward, in his native village, on November 30, 1894, he yielded to the disease which had under- mined his constitution, and died before his monu- ment had been unveiled. In the following week 230 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. (December 6, 1894) the stagings and screens which concealed it from sight were, however, removed for a short time as a concession to the revived public interest in the work, and since then the monument has been completed and permanently exposed to view. One of the facts which can be asserted with cer- tainty about Grandi’s conception for this monument is that it was novel and unconventional. The pyramidal style of composition, used with such undesirable unanimity in modern Italian public monuments, was abandoned and something totally different used in its place. What one cannot as- sert with equal positiveness is that it was coherent as well as novel. Grandi’s conception is more like a half-grasped idea, seen in a dream, than like a clear- cut perception recorded on an intellect thoroughly awake. Around the base of the obelisk there is a sort of whirling vortex of objects which in one way or another convey the idea of Revolution, — sym- bolically as we look at them separately, and in a certain tangible, literal sense as we take in the sug- gestion of vertiginous motion given by the sweep- ing lines. Among the various elements in the composition we can make out a bell, evidently in vibration, a lion crawling along with catlike stealth- iness, several figures of not perfectly luminous im- port, and some irregular folds of drapery intended to serve as a modulation or a connecting rhythm from one idea to the other. Evidently this concep- RECENT SCULPTORS. 231 tion came hot to Grandi’s mind, was fastened in the bozzetto before it was allowed to cool, and was never substantially changed afterward. The long years of work, filling up the gap between 1881 and 1894, must have been devoted principally to the mere mechanical process of enlargement, and to the supplying of the detail which the enlargement compelled. Apparently Grandi’s talent consisted largely in the capacity to produce strikingly sug- gestive sketches, embodying the kernel of a valu- able idea in its essential elements, but without its details. Some of his bozzetti, as for example the figure of Marshal Ney in the collection of Giulio Pisa at Milan, help to confirm one in this im- pression. The subsequent process of elaboration, requisite for the translation of a work into the proportions demanded for a public monument, must have been distasteful to him — a proceeding where the motive power was supplied by the will and not by the nervous delight in mere creation which pro- duced the first sketch. The commission recently given to Lodovico Pogliaghi for the bronze doors of the Milan cathe- dral virtually compels us to treat the multiform talent of this young Lombard artist as plastic rather than graphic, although before he received the order for this work he was principally known by productions which belonged to the province of the painter rather than to that of the sculptor. Pogliaghi is in truth a sort of Mezzofanti in the field of art- 232 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. expression. He speaks so many languages and speaks them all so well that it is virtually impossi- ble to tell which is his own proper tongue. The cartoon which he prepared, when he was still hardly more than a novice, for the semicircular mosaic over the central entrance to the Cimitero Monumentale at Milan was a work of great dignity in composition and of much beauty in color. His long series of designs, illustrating important incidents in Roman and Italian history, show remarkable powers of in- vention, especially in the scenes of ancient Latin civilization, which form the first division of the series. The whole stirring and solidly brilliant panorama of Roman manners and customs and of the events of Roman history seemed to have objec- tive existence in his imagination, rendering it hardly more than a mere mechanical process to transfer any given portion of it to canvas or to paper. All of these studies were produced without models, the artist’s method in its actual details being to realize his conception directly in its finished form, standing up before his easel with perhaps a photograph or a drawing of some fragment of architecture in his hand, and working out the scene rapidly in black and white oil-colors, to be subsequently reproduced by photogravure or wood-engraving. I have seen no complete list of Pogliaghi’s works m relief, though I am aware that as early as 1891 he had already tried his hand at sculpture, since his studio then contained the model of a monumental RECENT SCULPTORS. 233 chimney-piece which he had designed for a Milanese patron, and which was ornamented by a large cen- tral statue and two supporting figures executed in the style of John of Bologna. A few years later he completed the modelling of a new crucifix, three metres in height, for the principal altar of the Milan cathedral, and of six candlesticks, all elaborately ornamented with figures and medallions in high and low relief, which were completed and set in their places in 1896 — the style adopted being that of the altar itself, and the principal relief ornaments being cast in silver. During the previous year the commission had been placed in his hands for the new bronze doors of the cathedral, and the work is now under way. His design, in this case, bears some resemblance to the naive work of the German wood-carvers and copper-plate engravers of the late mediaeval period ; and the selection of this style is not inappropriate, inasmuch as the cathedral itself was produced quite as much under the influence of German as of Italian art-ideas. The leading trait in Pogliaghi’s temperament as an artist is sponta- neity. Nothing with him is labored. His variety is inexhaustible. His brain is in perpetual ebullition with new ideas and, as I have already intimated, the labor of creation reduces itself simply to the labor of transferring the images, which stand perfectly shaped before his inner vision, to clay or canvas.^ ^ Among the other sculptors resident at Milan I must not omit to mention the names of Achille Alberti and Paolo Trotibetzkoy . Alberti 234 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. In speaking of the leading sculptors of the period of transition from classicism to naturalism, I ought perhaps to have mentioned Luigi Ferrari of Venice, whose own life bridged this gap, and whose work, also, passed through a succession of changes corre- sponding, though somewhat tardily, to the changes which took place during the same period in the taste of the art-public. Ferrari made his debut in 1834 with a group representing Laocoon and his sons in the toils of the serpents, his choice of this subject showing the slightly retrospective character of his views. Prior to 1820, this particular theme had been one of the especial favorites of academic professors, one of the conditions under which it was given out always being that the pupil should pro- duce an interpretation distinctly different from that of the antique. Perhaps Ferrari did not misjudge the taste of his own particular public, for the La- ocoon found a purchaser in Count Tosio of Brescia, and the applause which it won for the sculptor was brought into prominence by a work upon a Dantesque theme, en- titled /gnav/a, which received two prizes at the Milan triennial exposi- tion of 1891 ; and he has since then been represented by some noticeable production at almost all the important exhibitions in northern Italy. Troubetzkoy, who, despite his peculiar name, was born in Italy (at Blevio on Lake Como), has produced a large number of striking busts and statuettes, one of the most familiar of his works of the former class being his portrait of the painter Segantini. His work is not finely finished, but is full of character. Let me also add the name of Luigi Secchi, author of a fine ideal bust of a young man, which received a prize at the Milan triennial exposition of 1897, and of many other works shown at previous exhibitions. RECENT SCULPTORS. 235 brought him into profitable prominence and assured him a steady flow of commissions from that time on. Out of the school of Ferrari, who was for many years professor of sculpture in the Venice Academy, came Antonio Dal Zotto, at present the leading sculptor of the V enetian group, and one of the most talented artists of Italy. Dal Zotto was born at Venice in 1841, and studied for a while under a now obscure master, named Gregoretti, before be- coming the pupil of Ferrari. When he had finished his course of studies at Venice, and had won the prix de Rome offered by the Academy, he was recommended by his master to Tenerani in a letter still preserved, in which Ferrari calls Tenerani “the first of living sculptors,” and begs him to assist the young Venetian, for whom he had “a lively affec- tion,” in “ deriving true benefit from his Roman residence.” To commend Dal Zotto to Tenerani was to place him under the protection of the most uncompromising opponent of naturalism, and would sufficiently indicate Ferrari’s tendencies of thought if they were not otherwise made evident by his works. Dal Zotto was, however, already a man of inde- pendent views, as he has since shown himself, and at Rome he entered no school and placed himself under no master. At the time that Ferrari’s letter to Tenerani was written, l\Iay 3, 1866, Dal Zotto was twenty-five years old. He worked a year in Rome, and spent the other year which remained 236 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. before the expiration of his pension in visiting dif- ferent parts of Italy. Upon his return to Venice he procured himself some sort of a studio, and pro- duced as his first independent work a statue of St. Anthony of Padua, which was much admired by Count Porcia and purchased by him for a private chapel. This was followed by statues of Petrarch and Galileo, which won their author the so-called Hirschel prize, but which were not so fortunate as to find purchasers. And, for the moment obliged by circumstances to devote himself to some occupa- tion which would bring him a certain income. Dal Zotto just at this stage of his career put aside his ambitions and loaned his services to Venetian dealers, who required imitations of the antique and works of decorative art to meet the demand for these objects from tourists and from the foreign market. The practice which he got during his term of servitude was very likely of some value to Dal Zotto. Possibly he owes in part to this training his insistence upon delicacy in his work, though I should be inclined to think that on the whole the qualities which give his production its highest value are more the outcome of a natural, irrepressible ten- dency implanted in his nature than of anything arti- ficially imposed upon him by external influences. Dal Zotto avoids the sensational ; that is one of the characteristics of his style. The apathetic observer who must be rudely shaken, in order to notice any work of art, will walk through a gallery in perfect FROM THE PLASTER MODEL BY DAL ZOTTO RECENT SCULPTORS. 237 oblivion of any production of this artist which may chance to be in it. Dal Zotto tends toward the selection and interpretation of mental states which are transitory, evasive, difficult to render. He has nothing to do with the vocabulary of rhetorical ex- pression. Gestures, in the conventional sense, do not enter into his art. And furthermore, to dis- criminate his work from that of the naturalists, pure and simple, I should add that mere naturalness of pose and expression is not the sum of what he cares for. If he is making a portrait-statue, he prefers to select some moment in the life of his subject which is potent and significant, and is not content to ren- der him either in a state of careless repose or of ordinary and commonplace mental action. These qualities which I have just referred to are well illustrated by the statue of Titian completed in 1880, and erected in the market-place at Pieve di Cadore in September of the same year. The painter is represented brush in hand with his eyes upon his canvas, passing judgment upon his work. The expression is a difficult one to render, so diffi- cult, in fact, that Vela did not make an entire suc- cess of it in his statue of Giotto at Padua. Reduced to a statuette, this figure would have much the same merits as Gemito’s Meissonier in the National Gal- lery at Rome, though Gemito had a much better opportunity to produce a work profoundly imbued with individuality and character, inasmuch as he had a most individual and most characteristic model be- 238 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. fore his eyes. The finished statue of Titian is in bronze; the photograph by which it is reproduced here was taken from the plaster in the sculptor’s studio, and perhaps shows the nice detail a little more distinctly than if made from the final version of the work. This successful statue of Titian was followed by the equally successful and even more popular statue of Goldoni, which was erected in bronze in 1883 in the busy *Campo S. Bartolomeo, near the eastern end of the Rialto, the lively prelude, as one might say, to the still more lively scenes of that famous thoroughfare. The inauguration of the bronze Goldoni was made a public event at Venice, and among the features of the festivities was one of special interest, the writing of a brilliant sonnet by Mr. Browning which, as Mrs. Sutherland Orr states in her biography of the poet, was actually dashed off while a messenger waited for it. The sparkling verses,^ which have all the life and dash of an impro- visation, form the best commentary on the statue 1 Goldoni, — good, gay, sunniest of souls, — Glassing half Venice in that verse of thine, — What though it just reflect the shade and shine Of common life, nor render, as it rolls. Grandeur and gloom? Sufficient for thy shoals Was Carnival : Parini’s depths enshrine Secrets unsuited to that opaline Surface of things which laughs along thy scrolls. There throng the people : how they come and go, Lisp the soft language, flaunt the bright garb, — see, — On Piazza, Calle, under Portico And over Bridge ! Dear king of Comedy, Be honored! Thou that didst love Venice so, Venice, and we who love her, all love thee! V GOLDONI FROM THE BRONZE BY DAL ZOTTO IN THE CAMPO S. BARTOLOMEO VENICE RECENT SCULPTORS. 239 itself. The sculptor, as I have said, chose as a rule to represent his subjects in some peculiarly char- acteristic mental state, and Goldoni is depicted at the moment of taking notes for his comedies. He is supposed to be standing in some such spot as that where the statue is actually placed, noting with shrewd delight the coming and going of the Vene- tians, their clever remarks, their vivacious ways ; picking up bit by bit the diverting comedy of the piazza and calk, to be later turned into the still more diverting comedy of the stage. The drama- tist’s face shows the keen, sharp, shrewd, gentle, serene character of the man, his broad love for his Venetians as well as his acute perception of the absurdity of their ways. His very attitude, the movement of his limbs, the lines of his long-skirted coat, show the vivacity of his temperament ; the alertness of his step furnishes equally convincing proof of the sound, wholesome, physical nature underlying and supporting the wholesomeness and soundness of his mind. The simple contemplation of such a work of art gives one a sensation of open- air freshness, of manliness and vigor, of intellectual cleverness in most delightful union with moral clean- liness and spiritual health. A few years later Dal Zotto was given, for the first time, the task of modelling a figure of Victor Emmanuel, a theme which is sure to come sooner or later to every Italian sculptor of prominence. In this particular case the statue was to be a simple 240 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. standing figure, not an equestrian monument, and the place to which it was to be assigned was the centre of the ground floor of the memorial tower on the battlefield of S. Martino (Solferino), a lofty circular structure which comes into sight on the right, as one travels by railway from Milan to Ven- ice, not long after the train leaves Brescia. The sculptor naturally chose, as the appropriate moment for interpretation, the historic moment of the turn- ing of the tide in favor of the Italian cause on the twenty-fourth of June, 1859. Victor Emmanuel is supposed to have just gained the summit of the hill where the monument stands, and to be surveying the field which his soldiers have won for him. Royal hauteur and intense humanity are happily inter- mingled in the expression of the work as a whole, the former indicated by the lines of the right arm and hand resting upon the sword, the latter by the dilated nostrils and the quivering muscles of the face. One reads at a glance upon that bronze countenance a sense of stern joy at the victory, but an even profounder sense of the human suffering and the sacrifice of precious lives which the victory has cost. People said at Turin, when the statue was being cast in bronze at the arsenal there, that it was the best likeness of Victor Emmanuel which had ever been seen in his native city. King Humbert, according to the reports of the incidents of the inauguration of the statue (which took place in RECENT SCULPTORS. 241 1893), was moved to tears when he first looked upon it. Both of these incidental facts may have no more solid foundation than the imagination of some newspaper writer, but it is easier to believe them true of this particular work than of most of the other representations of Victor Emmanuel which are encountered at every turn in Italy. Since completing the statue just referred to Dal Zotto has modelled a figure of the violin virtuoso Tartini, which was recently erected in bronze in a public square at Pirano, Tartini’s birthplace. The same merits are noticeable in this work as in the Titian, namely, the successful interpretation of a subtle, evasive expression. One of the most nota- ble incidents in the history of the great violinist was his discovery, by accident, of a certain harmony known as the terzo stiono ; and it is at the moment of making this discovery that Dal Zotto has repre- sented him. The unveiling of the monument in August, 1896, was made the excuse for a great popular demonstration. The sculptor, who had indiscretely accepted an invitation to be present, was taken up bodily by the enthusiastic populace, and carried about the Piazza Tartini in triumph.^ ^ Before concluding what is to be said here of the Venetian sculp- tors of our own time, I must at least mention the names of E 7 nilio Marsili^ author of the statue of Paolo Sarpi, inaugurated in the Campo di Santa Fosca at Venice in 1892, of the reliefs representing Poetry, Music, Architecture, and Sculpture on the grand staircase of the Fran- chetti Palace at Venice, and of a number of other imaginative compo- sitions ; of Augusto Felici^ a Roman by birth but Venetian by residence, some of whose work may also be seen on the stairway of the palace 242 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. The group of sculptors established at Turin includes several men who enjoy national distinction, such as Tabacchi, Bistolfi, Belli, and Calandra. Odoardo Tabacchi (born at Valganna December 19, 1831) is the author, jointly with Antonio Tan- tardini, of the Cavour monument in the Piazza Gavour at Milan, and the sole author of the Arnaldo monument in the square near the Porta Venezia at Brescia. His name has also been associated with the singular monument in the Piazza dello Statute at Turin, commemorating the completion of the Mont Cenis tunnel; but if I am correctly informed, the general design of this peculiar construction was invented by Count Marcello Panissera di Veglio, a Piedmontese nobleman, who died in 1886, after attaining to the dignity of se^iatore del regno, and the credit or discredit for the conception as a whole would seem to belong to him. Beside his monumental works Tabacchi has modelled a num- ber of figures in a lighter vein, of which the Bather, exhibited at Milan in 1894, may be taken as an example. Lorenzo Bistolfi, whom I mentioned second in the above list, is much younger than just referred to ; of Urbarw Nono, author of the figure in green bronze called II Turbine (the Whirlwind) in the National Gallery of Modern Art at Rome, an ingenious and novel conception ; and of Enrico Chiaradia, a Venetian by birth but at present a resident of Rome. The latter was the fortunate winner in the competition for designs for the equestrian statue of Victor Emmanuel, which is to form the central feature of the vast national monument now in process of erection on the Capitoline hill at Rome, — a structure of which something will be said in the chapter on contemporary architects. RECENT SCULPTORS. 243 Tabacchi, and has only come into view recently, — the composition representing Grief comforted by Memory which received a prize at the Turin expo- sition of 1898 having had much to do with estab- lishing his right to a place among the .leading sculptors at the Sardinian capital. Luigi Belli (a pupil of Tabacchi) is the author of the important monument to Raphael at Urbino, which was in- augurated August 22, 1897, of the Crimean monument in his native city. Davide Calandra began to attract notice about 1880, when some of his works were commended at the important expo- sition held that year at Turin. He was also repre- sented at other expositions held during the decade which followed, and in 1892 one of his works, V Aratj^o, was purchased for the National Gallery of Modern Art at Rome. He has already received at least two commissions for public monuments, the first large work of this character having been, if I am not in error, the Garibaldi monument with a colossal standing: figcure and three bas-reliefs in bronze inaugurated at Parma May 28, 1893, and the second having been the Prince Amedeo monu- ment, commissioned by the city of Turin in 1892. Connoisseurs, however, will lay less stress upon olficial works of this nature, necessarily composed more or less according to a formula and confining the artist to the treatment of subjects worn com- pletely threadbare, than upon smaller works illus- trating subjects of the designer’s own choice. Of 244 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. these last the head of a warrior with a helmet, in the Gallery of Modern Art at Turin, furnishes a favorable illustration, being free from the slightest trace of the commonplace in its conception, and marked in its execution by virile strength and poetic sentiment. PART II. PAINTING. ■ !s ' ‘I 1 CHAPTER VIII. VINCENZO CAMUCCINI, THE LEADING PAINTER OF THE CLASSIC MOVEMENT. The effect of the revival of the classic style on the art of painting. — The primacy of Vincenzo Camuccini among the painters of the classic movement. — Early studies of this artist. — His first intro- duction to the temporal and spiritual sovereigns of Rome. — His first important works. — Comments on the picture representing the death of Caesar. — Distinction between the style of Camuccini and the style of David. — Important picture painted by Camuccini for the basilica of St. Peter. — His journey to Paris in i8io and his reception by the leading artists of the day and by the emperor. — He resumes active work in his studio after his return. — The ceiling- painting in the state dining-room of the Torlonia Palace. — Pictures painted for the decoration of the basilica of S. Paolo fuori le Mura. — The discovery of the remains of Raphael at the Pantheon. — Camuccini and Horace Vernet. — Last years of the Roman artist. — The Camuccini Palace at Cantalupo. — General estimate of the value of Camuccini’s work. I DO not need to repeat, at the beginning of these chapters on modern Italian painting, what has al- ready been said relative to the general revival of the classic style at the close of the last century, and its effect on the art of Italy and the art of Europe. I mentioned in the chapter on Canova and his con- temporaries that the two great apostles of the classic movement were Mengs and Winckelmann, and that the principles of these men were not exactly identi- 247 248 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. cal, inasmuch as Winckelmann insisted upon the direct imitation of the antique, while Mengs advo- cated a form of eclecticism based upon the work of certain artists of the renaissance. All that I need say further on the subject at this point is, that the influence of Mengs operated more strongly upon the painters of the classic movement than it did upon the sculptors ; and this was perfectly natural because the antique only furnished a standard in drawing and gave no help to the painters in the im- portant matter of color. So far as the type of the human figure was concerned, the graphic, as well as the plastic artists of the last years of the last century, were disposed to follow the model fur- nished by Greco-Roman art; and they obtained from the same source many other valuable sugges- tions when they confined themselves to classic sub- jects in their works. But when they entered the field of religious art they found that the antique furnished only a very imperfect guide, and they naturally turned to the painters of the renaissance in their search for satisfactory precedents. The primacy among the painters of the classic movement has been assigned by common consent to Vincenzo Camuccini and, as it seems to me, with the most perfect justice. Camuccini was endowed by nature with a temperament of exquisite refinement, which made it impossible for him to produce coarse or blundering work. His sense of color was supe- rior to that of either Appiani or Benvenuti and VINCENZO CAMUCCINL 249 equal to that of Landi.^ He was a most industrious workman, and produced a larger number of finished compositions than any of his great contemporaries. And he was a most exacting critic of his own work, never allowing any canvas to leave his studio until he had rendered it as perfect as it was in his power to make it. I find something extremely attractive in the per- sonality of this artist. He was by nature a gentle- man. When a peerage was conferred upon him late in life, it seemed more like an affirmation of certain rights, which every one had already come to recognize as inherent in him, than like the bestowal of a dignity which raised him above his former level. He was born, as I have said, with a refined nature, and his views of life, and of what was becoming and unbecoming, were always like his work — elevated and noble. His character has been little under- stood by those who have come after him, and his work has been pushed somewhat into the back- ground. This attitude of the public of our own time is entirely unjust, and seems like an indignity to an artist who would have made his way to the highest level of his profession in any age — whether accident had placed his birth in the sixteenth cen- tury or the nineteenth. The date which actually marked the appearance of Camuccini in this world was the twenty-second of February, 1771, and the place was Rome — then ^ See Chapter IX for a review of the work of these painters. 250 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. and ever afterward the residence of his family and of himself. This accident was certainly favorable for the development of his rare talents. His childhood was watched over with loving care by his older brother, Pietro, who stood in the place of a father to him, who first discovered the boy’s artistic apti- tudes, and who procured for him the best masters and the most advanced instruction. The young Vincenzo studied first under Domenico Corvi, an artist who is now completely forgotten, but who en- joyed a certain relative distinction in his day; and after acquiring a knowledge of the elemental principles which had of necessity to be learned di- rectly from a master, he went to work to build up the permanent superstructure by himself. It is just at this point that we find him coming under the influ- ence of the theories now associated with the name of Raphael Mengs. More than two years were spent by him in diligent work in the Vatican, largely in making drawings from the paintings of Raphael and other artists of the same school. After this discipline he studied the chiaroscuro of Correggio, and the color of the Venetians from their works in the Roman galleries, and in this way filled his drawing-books, his portfolios, and his memory with the principles (reduced to concrete form) which Mengs had de- clared to be essential in the highest form of art. After all this came anatomical studies in the hos- pitals and life studies from the nude, placing the young man finally at the age of twenty-two or VINCENZO CAMUCCINI. 251 twenty-three in the complete command of the com- plex machinery of art-expression, and leaving him only the task of selecting a subject with which to make his debut before the critical Roman public. A curious incident occurred while Camuccini was pursuing his early studies, and one which gave him a rather informal introduction to the temporal sov- ereigns of Rome, who were afterward destined to take such an interest in his work and to bestow upon him so many honors and opportunities for distinguishing himself. At the end of a long day which he had spent in copying a portion of the Last Judgment in the Sistine Chapel, and when he felt particularly well satisfied with what he had accom- plished, he was descending the stairs of the Vatican, three steps at a time, when he came suddenly upon a turn in the stairway for which he was unprepared and, unable to stop himself, plunged against a closed doorway which barred, or should have barred, his further progress in that direction. The door, which was not firmly enough latched to withstand such a shock, flew open and ushered the young Camuccini into the presence of His Holiness, Pius VI. Both the young man and the old man were very much frightened, one at the probable awful consequences of his intrusion, and the other at the suddenness of the apparition. It took the venerable pontiff several sec- onds to recover his self-possession sufficiently to sum- mon Camuccini to explain his conduct. Before the faltering explanation had been completed, however, 252 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. the pope decided that the best course to pursue was to smile rather than frown upon the young penitent. He even asked the youth to show him the work upon which he had been engaged, and, upon finding that it was cleverly done, granted him plenary abso- lution for the offence committed, and told him that if he would bring the study to him when it was completed he would reward him. It is not unlikely that he added to his words of praise an insinuation that it would be desirable to descend the stairs with a little more circumspection in the future. During the long period which he devoted to study, Camuccini made no attempt to produce any important independent work, preferring to wait un- til his technical training was perfect, and until he felt absolutely sure of himself before venturing to appear before the public with an original produc- tion. I cannot ascertain the precise date when he commenced the cartoon for his great picture of the Death of Julius Caesar, but it could hardly have been earlier than 1793. It was a part of his plan to paint two large works : one on the subject which I have just mentioned, and the other representing the Death of Virginia; and this plan was ulti- mately carried out, but the cartoon of the Julius Caesar was the first to be commenced and the first to be completed. When it was finished, it was pub- licly exhibited by its author, and seems to have scored an unqualified success. All hurried to see it, says Falconieri, and all agreed in pronouncing it FROM AN ENGRAVING OF THE PAINTING I!Y CAMUCCINI / I t VINCENZO CAMUCCINI. 253 a masterpiece, declaring that it was no longer chi- merical to say that Roman art would some day re- gain its lost prestige, since that longed-for moment had evidently already arrived. The first version of the work in color was com- pleted and exhibited about 1 798, but did not satisfy either the Roman public or its author, and was sub- sequently repainted. The companion picture was, I think, not entirely completed until 1804. Both of them ultimately came into the possession of the King of Naples, and they hang at present side by side in the northeast corner room on the principal floor of the Royal Villa at Capodimonte, the apart- ment itself being named the Sala di Giulio Cesare after the more admired of the two works. Although Camuccini’s manner of representing the death of Caesar is very far from being realistic in the modern sense, he did not decide upon the details of the composition without consulting the archaeologists of his time and obtaining from them all the information which they could give him about his subject. Visconti advised him as to the archi- tecture of the hall in which the Senate was assem- bled, and he copied the statue of Pompey — which figures so prominently in the foreground, and whose cold impassiveness furnishes such an excellent foil to the excited action of the group gathered about its base — from the well-known antique of the Spada Palace. The coloring of the work is particularly harmonious. By the generation which came after 254 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. him, Camuccini was criticised for the excessive sobriety of his coloring, and those who have not seen his pictures are apt to conclude that they must have been dark and heavy in tone. That this criti- cism was ever made is, however, exclusively due to the fact that one of the innovations attending the romantic movement of 1820 was the excessive use of strong, positive, and discordant colors ; and while such a standard prevailed it was natural that Camuccini’s more delicate coloring should pass temporarily into disfavor. The general tone of the picture of which I am speaking is a golden yel- low. The figure of Csesar is draped in a light brown tunic partly covered by a red toga. Cassius, who stands with his right arm raised, wears a cream- white toga, and Brutus is in a toga of a still lighter shade, his dress being the point of highest light in the picture. The background is in tones of gray, and three of the figures of senators in seats at the back are in white. The faces are magnificently painted, especially those of Caesar and Cassius, and the modelling of all the nude portions of the figures is flawlessly accurate. Camuccini has been described, by those who are unfamiliar with his work, as an imitator of the man- ner of Louis David. This is inaccurate in two respects and for two reasons. In the first place David did not originate the style with which his name is associated in France ; he learned it dur- ing a visit which he made to Italy, prior to 1785. VINCENZO CAMUCCINI. 255 David’s first manner was distinctly different from the classic manner which later came to be reoarded O in France as his own peculiar and personal inven- tion. Up to the date of the Oath of the Horatii he had produced nothing in the sculpturesque style, and he painted that picture for the express purpose of showing what he could accomplish in a work made to conform to the principles of Winckelmann, whose gospel was then on every one’s lips in Rome. The principles were, therefore, not his own ; they were borrowed. In the second place Camuccini, as has already been stated, did not follow so much the art-principles of Winckelmann as those of Mengs and the eclectics. In his paintings on religious subjects his style is based much more directly upon Raphael than it is upon the antique ; and in his paintings on classic subjects he is never so distinctly and excessively sculpturesque as David. Or to re- peat what has just been said in a slightly different form, neither David nor Camuccini copied from each other, but were both drawn into the classic current which had set in as a reaction against the baroque ; and, as between the two channels which the classic current followed, David selected the more purely sculpturesque, and Camuccini the more purely pictorial. The fact that Camuccini received in 1800, when he was only twenty-nine years old, a commission to paint an altar-piece for St. Peter’s, may be accepted as an indication of the high rank among the Roman 256 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. artists of his time to which he had already risen at that date. Novices are not invited to paint pictures for St. Peter’s, and this particular artist would not have been given this opportunity to contribute to the decoration of the great basilica, if the voice of the pub- lic and the voice of the experts had not concurred in estimating his talent as of the highest order. The subject of the picture which he painted was the In- credulity of St. Thomas, and after being copied in mosaic it was placed above the first altar on the right in the transept of the confessionals where it still re- mains. The tall figure of Christ occupies the whole of the right side of the picture, and that of St. Thomas the whole of the left side, while behind them the heads of several other disciples are visible. The figures are of colossal proportions and well adapted to the size of the church. The painter would un- doubtedly have been glad if he could have had more space in which to develop his conception, but within the narrow limits of the compartment which was actually assigned to him, he could not have deter- mined the scale of the figures more judiciously. As in all of Camuccini’s pictures the faces are very dignified and noble, and the expression well suited to the action. The hands and all the nude portions of the figure of Christ are drawn and modelled with the utmost perfection and with in- finite nicety of detail. The folds of the draperies are also rendered with flawless accuracy. The coloring is judiciously confined to a very limited VINCENZO CAMUCCINI. 257 range of tints ; there is the white of the long gar- ment worn by the principal figure, the dull terra- cotta and dull yellow of the draperies of St. Thomas, the dark olive green of the tunic of the disciple just behind him, and the subdued grayish green hues of the background ; but no light or trivial tones are used. The coloring of this work as a whole is in very agreeable contrast with that of another mosaic, reproduced from a painting by an artist of the six- teenth century, which may be seen on one of the great piers not far away. The important picture of the Presentation in the Temple, which is the second great religious paint- ing executed by Camuccini at this stage of his career, was completed in 1806, and is now in the church of S. Giovanni at Piacenza. The young artist owed the opportunity to paint this picture to the generosity of the only man at Rome who could be called his rival, Gaspare Landi. Landi was a native of Piacenza, and had been requested as early as 1803 to paint two great pictures, each to be about eight metres square, for the decoration of the chapel of the Madonna of the Rosary, which had recently been added to the church of S. Giovanni ; but upon a suggestion from his patrons he generously consented that the commission should be divided, and that one of the pictures should be painted by Camuccini. The two canvases were completed in the early spring of 1806, and were exhibited at the Pantheon at Easter of that year. Being placed side 258 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. by side, there was a natural tendency on the part of the public to compare the two works; and Camuc- cini noted in his diary with pardonable pride that “ the Presentation was conceded to possess the most merit, though the coloring and the expression of the faces in Landis picture were much admired.” After the curiosity of the Roman world had been satisfied, the Presentation was taken to Piacenza and placed in the chapel of the church of S. Gio- vanni, which it was intended to decorate. It still re- mains in the position to which it was first assigned, but unfortunately is rarely seen, because Piacenza is seldom visited by those who travel in Italy for pleasure, and because the church itself is not one of particular importance. The chapel containing the two great paintings is the last on the left near the choir, and is fairly well lighted by a large cir- cular window in the ceiling. Camuccini’s picture differs from Landis in several particulars, and is undeniably superior in composition. The older artist introduced a multitude of figures, which con- fused the action ; Camuccini introduced only a few figures, and made the action clear and distinct. The high priest, who stands on the second step of the sanctuary, with some twisted columns behind him like those supporting the baldacchino at St. Peters, has a head which suggests that of Michel- angelo’s Moses, by the archaic grandeur of the type. The two acolytes at the left are admirable in the drawing of the faces and figures, in the coloring of VINCENZO CAMUCCINI. 259 the flesh and of the draperies, in grouping, in move- ment, and in expression. These two figures alone, taken together with those of the high priest and the infant Christ, would make an extremely har- monious picture. A few years after the completion of this work, Camuccini received a commission from the French imperial government for a large picture on the subject of the Battle of Ratisbon, a theme which he did not find entirely to his liking. Wishing to confer with the French art-authorities on the sub- ject of the proposed work, and also to see some- thing of the world north of the Alps, he decided to make a journey to Paris by way of Munich, and in 1810 set out from Rome in the party of the Prin- cess Dietrichstein, travelling slowly northward by way of Bologna, Parma, and Verona. At Parma he saw for the first time the frescos of Correggio, and felt humbled in their presence, writing back to his brother Pietro that their beauty was far beyond his expectations. Upon reaching Munich, he was welcomed by the royal family, who already knew him by reputation, and was invited to paint a portrait of one of the young princes. The atten- tions shown him at the Bavarian capital were only a foretaste of those accorded him at Paris, where he was treated as in a certain sense the representa- tive of contemporary Italian painting, and shown ail the honors which could be bestowed upon a great master. The day after his arrival, he had an 26 o HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. interview with Denon, who was at that time the principal art-official of the imperial government, and arranged with him for the abandonment of the sub- ject of the Battle of Ratisbon and the substitution of other themes which were more congenial, the commis- sion being further modified so as to call for the paint- ing of two pictures instead of one. After this matter had been satisfactorily adjusted, Camuccini gave him- self up to the enjoyment of the pleasures of French society. Denon introduced him to Louis David who, as the Italian painter says in a letter to his brother Pietro, “ received me in the most friendly manner, and after having shown me his works in- vited me to dine with him. M. Gerard (whom Camuccini had known in Italy) did the same, as did also Perodet, Gros, Regnault, and others. About M. Gerard I shall say nothing, because if I should undertake to describe his surprise at seeing me, his effusive demonstrations of friendship and all that he said and did, it would make too long a story.” Camuccini was also graciously received by the emperor; and, in short, everything seems to have been done which could have been done to make his brief stay in Paris agreeable. As appears from a pencil sketch by Sir Thomas Lawrence, now at the Palazzo Camuccini at Cantalupo, the clever Roman artist was a man of exceedingly attractive personal appearance, with perfectly moulded features, and a certain something in his face which clearly marked him out as a personage of importance. VINCENZO CAMUCCINI. 261 Add to these natural advantages the distinction of his manner and the prestige attaching to his high rank as an artist, and it is easy to understand why he was welcomed as he was, and why the brilliant world of Paris so promptly opened its arms to him. Soon after his return to Rome an incident oc- cured which nearly brought his career to an abrupt conclusion just when his services were most in demand, and when his life-work was only half accomplished. In visiting the cascades at Tivoli with a party of friends who wished to see the famous falls at sunrise, he was horror-struck at seeing one of his companions lose his footing and fall into the current, which of course bore the un- fortunate man rapidly toward the edge of the preci- pice. Obeying an instinct which he could not resist, Camuccini made an effort to save him ; but instead of extricating his companion from the water, he was himself carried off his feet, and hurried toward the fatal plunge. Fortunately both men escaped unharmed, one of them by drifting upon a shoal and the other by seizing a rock which pro- jected above the water; and the adventure led to nothino: more serious than a thoroimh wettinm Camuccini was just at this time overwhelmed with commissions. From 1810 until 1830 he held the undisputed primacy among the painters at Rome, steadily producing works in his highly finished style, which were sold as soon as completed, and not un- frequently before they were completed, to princely 262 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. connoisseurs all over Europe. Among these pictures may be mentioned the Cornelia, Mother of the Gracchi, which was purchased by Elisa Bonaparte, Princess of Lucca, the Deposition painted for the King of Spain, and the fine portrait of Pius VII, which became the property of the Duke of Saxe- Coburg. Pius VII had been, from the first, an admirer of the work of Camuccini, and in the first year of his elevation to the papal throne gave the young painter the commission for the altar-piece at St. Peter’s, to which reference has already been made. In 1806 he confirmed Camuccini’s election to the presidency of the Academy of St. Luke, and three years later he showed his continuing respect and regard for the artist by making him Superin- tendent of the Apostolic Palaces, an office some- what similar to that held by M. Denon at Paris, and one which, if I mistake not, gave him the gen- eral control and oversight of all the museums and galleries of Rome. So far as I am aware Camuccini attempted in only one instance to execute a ceiling-painting, but in that one case he achieved an entire success. The work to which I refer is the long rectangular panel in the ceiling of the state dining-room of the Torlonia Palace at Rome, representing the mar- riage of Cupid and Psyche in the presence of the gods of Olympus — a work which has been engraved, but which must be seen in the original colors to be fully appreciated. The prevailing tone is a light VINCENZO CAMUCCINI. 263 cream color deepening into a rich amber in the background of clouds, and lightening into a delicate carnation in the flesh tints of the nudes in the fore- ground. Out of this prevailing tint emerge several other soft tones, such as the terra-cotta of the draperies of Jupiter, and the blue and mauve of those of Venus and Apollo; but none of them come forward with aggressive distinctness or tend to lessen the delicate harmony of the color scheme as a whole. The surroundings of this picture are extremely harmonious, and it would quite fail of producing the present effect if removed from its setting, as I understand it is soon to be removed on account of the alterations in the palace necessi- tated by the projected destruction of the front on the Piazza di Venezia. The cove of the ceiling is simply decorated in white and gold, and in the hangings and the architectural ornamentation of the walls only two colors, white and yellow or white and gold, are introduced. In this way the soft tints of Camuccini’s painting are left to produce their full effect without any such lessening of the values as would necessarily result if the panel were hung side by side with other pictures introducing a bolder or more brilliant scheme of coloring. Very soon after the burning of the basilica of St. Paul in 1823, Camuccini was requested by Pope Leo XII to undertake one of the principal altar- pieces for the new church which it was proposed to raise on the ruins of the old one. The subject 264 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. assigned to him, or the subject which he chose, was the Conversion of St. Paul, and the preliminary sketch was finished and submitted to the pope in 1829. Six years afterward the picture was com- pleted and approved by the commission appointed to take charge of the rebuilding of the basilica ; and in due course of time it was assigned to the posi- tion which it now occupies over the altar at the north end of the transept. St. Paul is represented in this picture as lying on the ground with his hand raised. About him are gathered his com- panions in various positions, one of them holding the bridle of his horse which is wild with fright; another leaning forward as if to raise the prostrate form of the apostle ; still another in the background, who has succeeded in keeping his seat upon his horse, hurries forward to the spot where he has seen his leader fall. The shape of the picture, which was required to be very high and narrow in order to fit the compartment in which it was to be placed, was unfavorable for producing the best effect, and the painter was compelled to resort to the usual expedient of placing a representation of the first person of the Trinity in the clouds in order not to leave this part of his canvas vacant. In its technical details the work is, as one would expect, a most finished production ; but the semicircular picture in the apse of the same church, also by Camuccini and representing St. Paul borne up to the Third Heaven, is more wholly agreeable in VINCENZO CAMUCCINI. 265 composition. I am not sure that this painting is always noticed by visitors; but it is entitled to be considered the choicest modern work of art in the church. At first sight its principal beauty seems to lie in its coloring, which presents an exquisite harmony of subdued soft tones. The flesh tints are accurately rendered; the garment which the saint wears next to his person is of a rich tone of dark green, like that used by Memling and Van Eyck ; the outer drapery is of an equally beautiful tone of subdued red, and the clouds in the back- ground are of a soft gray with an exquisite modu- lation of tints. Upon a closer examination one is compelled also to admire the drawing and model- ling of the figures, which are flawlessly accurate, and, when seen from the pavement of the church, appear as minutely perfect as in a miniature. The •lower part of the face of the saint is covered with a dark beard, not long, but showing distinctly the outline of the chin and cheek. The expression is noble and dignified. The principal figure is sup- ported on the right and left by two angels in well- chosen positions, and painted with the same per- fection of detail as the figure of the apostle. An event which was of much importance to the artists of Rome, and which occurred while Camuc- cini w^as at work upon his pictures for the basilica of St. Paul, w^as the discovery at the Pantheon, in 1833, of the remains of Raphael. Up to that date no one had knowm precisely where the body of the 266 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. great painter had been buried. On September 9, 1833, excavations were commenced before the altar of the Madonna del Sasso, which was believed by those who had investigated the subject to be the probable place of his interment. These excavations did not immediately bring the tomb to light; but upon removing the altar, and continuing the ex- cavations, the workmen came upon an arch closed up with a wall which appeared to be the entrance of a burial vault. With the consent of the authori- ties the wall was removed and the remains of a human body, unquestionably that of the painter, were discovered. It being desirable to preserve a permanent graphic record of the tomb as it ap- peared at this moment, and this being before the days of photography, Camuccini was commissioned by the Academy of St. Luke to make a drawing of the tomb and its contents. The painter, who entered upon the performance of this task as if it were a religious duty, made two careful drawings: one showing the tomb as it appeared when partly opened, and one showing it as it appeared when the wall which closed the vault had been entirely re- moved. The two drawings were executed with photographic accuracy, and left nothing to be de- sired. Camuccini regarded them, in after years, as the most precious studies in his collection, and en- joined upon his heirs never to part with them under any consideration — an injunction which has been strictly observed. The whole proceeding was one VINCENZO CAMUCCINI. 267 of particular solemnity for the reason that the classic movement in Italian art was at this time just developing into purism, so-called ; and because both to the classicists and the purists, and more especially to the purists, Raphael was a divinity whose name was never mentioned except with the reverence with which a Franciscan or Dominican would speak of the patron saint of his order. This incident, of such grave importance to the Roman art- world, was accompanied by another which had its amusing side. Horace Vernet, who was then the director of the French Academy at Rome, also made a drawing of the opened tomb, and caused an engraving or lithograph to be pre- pared from it, which he wished, with the permission of the authorities of the Vatican, to publish. He addressed a communication to the Cardinal Cham- berlain, asking leave to do this, and His Eminence replied that this permission could not be granted until after the drawings of Baron Camuccini had been given to the public. Indignant at what he felt to be an unjust preference, and supposing that of course his distinguished Roman contemporary had personally requested the Cardinal Chamberlain to refuse to grant his petition, he tore up all the copies which he had had printed of his engraving, made a package of the fragments, and sent them to Camuccini. The latter, who knew nothing of the order which had been issued from the Vatican, was inclined at first to make an angry reply; but 268 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. upon reflection he thought better of it. The action of the director of the French Academy was hasty; but then, after all, had there not been something extremely irritating to a person of French excitabil- ity in the communication of the Cardinal Cham- berlain ? Clearly, the situation was one to be smoothed over and not one to be made more un- pleasant. The Italian painter gave directions to have the fragments of Vernet’s engravings carefully gummed together and restored so far as possible to their pristine condition. He then had them made up into a trim package, and returned them to their author with a letter, in which he assured the latter that he had known nothing of the cardinal’s order, and begged him to believe that no one regretted the unfortunate occurrence more than the person who had been its involuntary cause. The fatal summons, which put an end to Camuc- cini’s activities, came to him in February, 1842, in the form of an apoplectic shock while he was at work in his studio. The seizure did not immediately end his existence ; he lingered along, indeed, for two years or more — the end not coming until Sep- tember 2, 1844; but the fragment of life which was left to him proved, of course, valueless to the painter, and afforded no opportunity of adding an epilogue to his brilliant art-career. The consolation which he found in the midst of failing powers was the companionship of friends who knew, admired, and respected him, and who showed him more and more VINCENZO CAMUCCINI. 269 openly the genuineness of their affection as the cer- tainty of his speedy extinction forced itself more and more clearly upon their minds. Two of the dis- tinguished artists whose names have been already mentioned in this book were among those who renewed their professions of friendship at this time, — Thorvaldsen and Tenerani, The former was, just at this juncture, making his farewell visit to Rome, and it was natural that he should press renewed assurances of his regard upon Camuccini, for whom he had always felt a closer sympathy than for Canova. Tenerani was also nobly faithful to the great painter, and was assiduous in his atten- tions down to the last days of the latter’s life. Some years before his death Camuccini, who had been created a baron by Pope Pius VIII in 1820, entered into negotiations for the purchase of a palace at Rome, situated in the Via della Maschera d’Oro, which had belonged to Cardinal Cesi ; and after his decease his son, Giovanni Battista Camuc- cini, the present baron, entered into the possession of this property and also purchased another palace which had belonged to the same cardinal, situated in the heart of the little town of Cantalupo, crown- ing the summit of one of the Sabine hills. The present baron not only inherited the property of his father, the painter, but of his uncle, Pietro Camuccini, who was a picture collector, and who owned a valuable collection of canvases by the old masters ; and as this collection of works by the old 2/0 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. masters was sold after the painter’s death to the Duke of Northumberland, the belief has gained ground that the whole Camuccini collection, includ- ing the cartoons and studies by Vincenzo Camuccini, was sent to England. This was not the case. All of the sketches, studies, drawings, cartoons, and un- finished pictures which were left in the studio of Vincenzo Camuccini were retained by his son as a legacy too precious and sacred to be parted with ; and as many of the works, especially the cartoons, were too large to be conveniently housed in the palace in the Via della Maschera d’Oro, they were taken to Cantalupo and suitably hung in the large apartments of that stately old mansion. The house, indeed, — I am speaking of the palace at Cantalupo, — has all the features of a well-ordered museum beside those of a baronial residence. A large suite of vaulted rooms on the ground floor, decorated with frescos by Federico and Taddeo Zuccari, is almost wholly filled with the cartoons, studies, and sketches of Vincenzo Camuccini, all arranged and classified in the most perfect order. The first room which one enters contains the larger cartoons, together with some personal memorials of the artist, including the palettes which he was in the habit of using, and a marble bust by Fabris. In a smaller room at the right may be seen Camuc- cini’s earliest work, a small painting in the style of Pompeo Battoni, representing the Sacrifice of Noah, and some other studies. Other works in color, VINCENZO CAMUCCINI. 271 including two admirable copies in small dimensions of the great pictures now at Capodimonte, are hung in a large apartment in the opposite wing. Many of the treasures of the collection have been placed in the library, which connects the central hall with the apartments just referred to. In the cabinets in this room are kept the large books of drawings executed by the painter during his early studies at the Vatican, and also some curious and valuable examples of work by other masters, including a small book of drawings upon copper by Giotto. This same room contains a small cartoon, repre- senting a procession of apostles and saints, which Camuccini prepared in 1830-1831 after receiving a commission from Pope Pius VIII to paint a deco- rative zone of colossal figures in chiaroscuro to ornament the frieze of St. Peter’s and entirely sur- round the interior of the church. This frieze, if completed, would have been something over a third of a mile in length. The death of Pius VIII in 1831 prevented the execution of the project; but to judge from the experimental section of the frieze, now preserved in the library at Cantalupo, the work if completed would not have been unworthy of the church. The decorations of St. Peter’s have, from time to time, been placed in the hands of men of by no means first-rate ability, whose work is nevertheless endured by the public and even admired. Camuc- cini’s frieze, to judge from the preliminary design wdiich is now preserved, would have been a flawless 2/2 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. piece of drawing, repeating, so far as is possible in any modern work, the best drawing and the most graceful and harmonious composition of the leading painters of the sixteenth century ; and executed, as it was proposed to execute it, in chiaroscuro without the introduction of color, and in the permanent form of a mosaic, it would probably have risen quite to the level of the best decorative work in the interior of the basilica. Camuccini lived before the days of photography, and the only means which existed during his life- time for popularizing important works of art and rendering them generally familiar was to cause them to be engraved. A great many, probably the larger part, of this painter’s works were reproduced in this way during his lifetime, some in engravings upon copper and some in lithographs ; but the lithographs, so far as I have seen them, are what would now be regarded as very imperfect specimens of workmanship, and the copper-plate engravings by no means do full justice to the works which they purport to represent. The engravers and drafts- men of that day took pains to get their contours accurate ; but they not infrequently substituted their own ideas of light and shade for those of the master whose work they were copying, and they did still greater injustice to the original by failing to repro- duce the correct expression of the faces. I think it is in part due to the unsatisfactory character of the reproductions of his works that the true merit VINCENZO CAMUCCINI. 273 of Camuccini s pictures is at present so little under- stood. For the full appreciation of what he accom- plished, however, it will be necessary to wait until the present art-movement, which still tends so strongly toward naturalism, shall have produced its normal reaction, and until the tide shall have begun to set in another direction. As soon as artists and art- critics reach the point where they can treat the work of the painters and sculptors of the early part of this century in the historical spirit, without the bias which is naturally felt by every one against a style which is just out of date, the men of this period will again receive respectful consideration, and the best among them will be given the credit to which their exceptional talents entitle them. CHAPTER IX. OTHER CLASSIC PAINTERS. The contemporaries of Camuccini. — Gaspare Landi. — His early studies. — The “Madonna addolorata” at Loreto. — Other works. — The great picture at Piacenza. — Positions of responsibility held by Landi ; his last years. — Tuscan painters of this period. — Pietro Benvenuti and his work. — Altar-piece in the cathedral at Arezzo representing the martyrdom of S. Donato. — The Triumph of Judith, painted for the same church. — Benvenuti’s appointment to the pro- fessorship of painting at the Florence Academy. — Works exe- cuted by him after his removal to Florence. — The frescos at the Pitti Palace and the Chapel of the Princes at S. Lorenzo. — Notes on Sabatelli and Bezzuoli. — Classic painting at Milan. — Andrea Ap- piani and his works. — Early frescos at Monza. — Decorations executed in the church of S. Maria presso S. Celso at Milan. — Frescos at the Royal Palace. — The frieze in the Hall of the Cary- atides. — The Appiani Cabinet at the Brera. — Concluding remarks. I HAVE already mentioned the name of Gaspare Landi in speaking of Camuccini’s picture of the Presentation which was painted in 1806 for the church of S. Giovanni at Piacenza, and I stated in the same connection that Landi was the only painter at Rome who could be regarded as the rival of the clever artist whose career has just been reviewed. The personal history of the older painter is veiled in obscurity, but by some research I have been able to ascertain that he was born at Piacenza January 6, 1756, and that he came to Rome when 274 OTHER CLASSIC PAINTERS. 275 he was about twenty-five years old to study under Domenico Corvi and Pompeo Battoni, who were then regarded as the leading painters in the eternal city. Landi, it seems, was a high-spirited youth and sowed his wild oats with a liberal hand. His fam- ily and friends despaired, at one time, of his ever amounting to anything; but in 1781, accepting a small subsidy procured for him through the influ- ence of a remote connection, the Marquis Giambat- tista Landi, he decided to turn over a new leaf and, as has just been said, removed to Rome and devoted himself seriously to the study of painting. Two of his pictures are now in the first room of the Royal Pinacoteca at Parma, the earlier of them (Diomedes and Ulysses, bearing off the Palladium, painted in 1783) being identical in style with a work by Pompeo Battoni in the same gallery, and the later of the two (Marriage of Abraham and Sarah) showing Landis manner in substantially the form which he adhered to in all his subsequent works. Above one of the altars in the church of the Santa Casa at Loreto there is a later work by this same painter showing his conception of the Madonna addolorata. The features of the Virgin are purely classic in type, and she is attended by an angel with a figure strongly suggesting the antique model. The coloring is delicate and harmonious, still be- traying the influence of Pompeo Battoni and his school. The work of which I am speaking is in mosaic, and the original painting is described and 2/6 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. its successive owners down to 1837 mentioned in an article published in one of the Italian art journals in the latter year. In this article, how- ever, it is stated that the mosaic, which was to have been made from the painting, was never exe- cuted, “ owing to the troubled political condition of the times.” The works of Landi are not very numerous, but are occasionally encountered in Italian galleries.^ The picture now hanging in the vestibule of the suite of rooms on the upper floor of the Academy at Florence, representing the three Marys at the sepulchre, furnishes as favorable an example of his style as could probably be found anywhere. It is an elaborately finished production, and shows his nice technique and his soft, delicate coloring at their best. His works seem to me distinctly supe- rior to those of Angelica Kauffmann (i 741-1807), who painted in somewhat the same style, and whose canvases are, as a rule, highly prized by their pos- 1 Those which I have been able to personally identify, beside the pictures mentioned in the text, are the Ariadne (1792) in Room VIII of the Royal Pinacoteca at Parma, the Magdalen in the Cabinet of Bronzes at the Ambrosian Library at Milan, the Hebe in Room XII of the Tosio Gallery at Brescia, and the two large companion pictures representing the deposition and burial of the Madonna in the choir of the cathedral at Piacenza : these last painted to take the place of two large canvases by Lodovico Caracci carried off by the French in the last decade of the last century. In the Torlonia Palace at Rome there is a ceiling-painting (representing Jupiter, Juno, and some of the other gods of Olympus) which is attributed to Landi, and may possibly be by him, though I do not know of any other instance in which he tried his hand at fresco-painting. OTHER CLASSIC PAINTERS. 277 sessors. Landi s most important picture, consider- ing the amount of labor expended upon it, is the great canvas hanging opposite Camuccini’s Presenta- tion in the church of S. Giovanni at Piacenza, rep- resenting the fainting of Christ as he struggles along over the road to Calvary weighted down by the burden of the Cross [Lo Spasimo). This work would be recognized in an instant as his, by those who know his style, because of the waxy surface of the nudes and the soft velvety coloring of the draperies. More than twenty figures are intro- duced in the picture beside those of the Saviour, the Madonna, and the Magdalen; and the faces of all of them are painted with much detail. Landi became a member of the Academy of St. Luke in 1805, professor of the theory of painting in 1812, and president of the Academy in 1817. He was also made a Chevalier of the Order of the Iron Crown, of the Order of S. Giuseppe, and of a Neapolitan order. About 1820 he returned to Piacenza, intending to remain there, but soon tired of the monotonous existence of a provincial town, and in 1824 reestablished himself at Rome, where he was accorded a triumphal reception by his many friends and admirers, poems being written in his honor, and laurel wreaths being bestowed upon him in recognition of his distinction as an artist. His last production was an inferior rep- resentation of the Assumption, now in the church of S. Francesco di Paola, at Naples, where it is 2/8 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. pointed out by the sacristan as a work of Murillo. Landi again left Rome for Piacenza in Septem- ber, 1829, — this time never to return, as his death occurred in the latter city on the twenty-eighth day of February, 1830. The greatest among the Tuscan painters of the classic period was Pietro Benvenuti, a native of Arezzo (born January 8, 1769), who became, early in life, one of the intimate friends of Camuccini, and formed with the latter and with Luigi Saba- telli, a private academy at Rome, where they all drew from the same model and divided the expense between them. Benvenuti s talent was first dis- covered by Bishop Marcacci of Arezzo, who ob- tained for him a pension for study at Florence (1782 -1792), and afterward at Rome. It was also this same prelate who gave Benvenuti the commission for his first important work (1794), a fine Martyr- dom of S. Donato in the style of Guercino which now hangs over one of the side altars of the cathedral at Arezzo. This painting is worthy of far more atten- tion than it usually receives from the tourist, being not only the choicest painting in the cathedral, but one of the masterpieces of Tuscan art. Inasmuch as the painter chose to adopt a historic style, his work does not clash with its surroundings ; and regarded with reference to its own independent merits it is entitled to be considered not only as the masterpiece of Benvenuti, but as one of the five or six best religious pictures of the eighteenth century. OTHER CLASSIC PAINTERS. 279 The head and face of S. Donato, who kneels in the centre of the tableau, are magnificently painted, and there is nothing in the whole work at which the critic could take offence, except the ptUti who float in the clouds and extend to the saint the palm of martyrdom. The canvas is kept reverently cov- ered, and is the only work of art in the cathedral to which this honor is accorded. This particular painting made, as it happened, less of a sensation in Italy than the inferior pict- ure of Judith triumphing over Holofernes, which Benvenuti painted a few years later on a commis- sion from the same patron. The Judith is a very large canvas, introducing a multitude of figures in dramatic action and when it was first ex- hibited in 1804, at the Pantheon at Rome, the crowd which thronged to see it was so great and so persistent that it was difficult to close the church at nightfall. The same enthusiasm attended the exhibition of the picture at Florence, and upon its arrival at Arezzo the whole town went out to meet it and to escort it to the cathedral. The picture had been ordered to fill one of the great wall compartments in the Lady Chapel which Bishop Marcacci had added to the church during the last years of the last century ; and it now hangs in the position in which it was originally placed, directly opposite a companion picture of the same dimensions by Luigi Sabatelli. Benvenuti’s work is much superior to Sabatelli’s; but, at the same 28 o HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. time, it falls far short of the merit of the Martyr- dom of S. Donato. There is a circumstance of curious interest attach- ing to the Judith which I ought perhaps to mention before dropping the subject. When the picture was in process of being painted at Rome, the artist’s studio was entered by thieves, and the small supply of money, upon which he had relied to keep him alive while he was completing his great canvas, was stolen. At about the same time the Bishop of Derry, who was engaged in making a collection of works of art for his mansion at Down Hill, in the north of Ireland, came to Benvenuti and urged the young painter to sell him the picture. Yielding to his urgency the artist promised him the first Judith (1796), and gave his word to Bishop Marcacci that a second version should be painted for Arezzo. It thus happens that the picture now in the Aretine cathedral is not an original but a copy. The Bishop of Derry, after engaging the first canvas, was sub- sequently unable to complete the purchase, and for a while the prospect seemed to be that the artist would have his great painting left upon his hands. The reputation of the work, however, finally found it a purchaser. The King of Naples asked to have it transferred to him, and it now hangs in the north- east corner room at Capodimonte, directly opposite the two early pictures by Camuccini, to which refer- ence was made in the last chapter. After this point Benvenuti’s career offers little OTHER CLASSIC PAINTERS. 281 that is of particular interest. He married on the day of the first exhibition of the Judith at the Pantheon (April 29, 1804), and shortly afterward removed to Florence, where he had been given the position of professor of painting at the Acad- emy on the recommendation of Canova. In his subsequent pictures in oil he seems to have relied too much on his early reputation and to have taken little pains with his work. Both of the pict- ures which bear his signature in the collection of modern paintings at the Florence Academy are inferior productions, and his portraits are not infrequently coarse and hurried in their execution. Not long before 1820 he took up fresco-painting, and decorated a room at the Pitti Palace with scenes from the myth of Hercules; and later he executed the frescos in the dome of the Chapel of the Princes at the church of S. Lorenzo at Flor- ence, upon which his reputation as a fresco-painter rests. These works signalize a striking departure in coloring from the style of Camuccini, and fur- nish evidence of the change in taste which began to make itself felt throughout the whole of Italy about 1820. The art-public had become tired of the quiet, harmonious hues which characterized the work of the classic painters and longed for some- thing more brilliant and positive. So far as draw* ing and composition are concerned, the frescos in the Chapel of the Princes show that Benvenuti was an accomplished technician, but they do not 282 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. indicate that he was gifted with much spontaneity of invention or originality of style. Without going into his career at greater length let me note here that he died at Florence February 3, 1844, and that during the last thirty years of his life he was universally recognized as the leading Tuscan painter of his time.^ 1 Luigi Sabatelli, who is usually regarded as the most talented of the Tuscan painters of this period after Benvenuti, was born at Florence February 21, 1772, and studied in his native city and at Rome. In 1808 he accepted a professorship of painting at the Academy of Fine Arts at Milan and held the post until his death, January 29, 1850, except for a brief furlough between 1822 and 1825. His first, and so far as I can learn his only, important work in oils was the large picture representing the meeting of David and Abigail, which now hangs opposite Benvenuti’s Judith in the Lady Chapel of the cathedral at Arezzo, a picture which has almost entirely lost its original color, and which could never, in its best estate, have been equal to the Judith. The productions on which Sabatelli’s reputation as an artist rests are the frescos (1822-1825) Hall of the Iliad at the Pitti Palace (the first room of the Picture Gallery), con- sisting of eight lunettes and a large circular medallion illustrating scenes from the Homeric poems. Giuseppe Bezzuoli^ who was born at Florence November 28, 1784, and died there September 13, 1855, was regarded in his day as a painter of considerable ability, and was even thought worthy of suc- ceeding to the professorship of painting at the Florence Academy after Benvenuti’s death. He studied as a young man under Des Marais at Florence, and afterward spent some time at Rome between 1813 and 1820. His large picture in the Academy, representing the Entry of Charles VIII into Florence (1822-1829), is a very poor pro- duction. Some of his smaller works, such as the Galatea and the small copy of Raphael’s School of Athens (1819), in the Tosio Gallery at Brescia, give a more favorable idea of his powers. He worked in all mediums, oils, water-colors, and fresco ; and an example of his skill as a fresco-painter is furnished by the decorations which he executed in the small Tribune of Galileo at the Natural History OTHER CLASSIC PAINTERS. 283 Among the Milanese painters of this period I shall mention only one, Andrea Appiani, who is unquestionably entitled to be regarded as the leader of the classic school. Appiani had no contact with Benvenuti or Camuccini, and his work, while conforming to classic principles, is a purely inde- pendent product. He was born at Milan May 23, 1754, studied exclusively under local masters, and I think never visited Rome, unless it may have been at the time when he was making preparations to paint the dome of the church of S. Maria presso S. Celso in 1791. Appiani’s earliest work, which is now in a posi- tion where it can be examined and studied, is the series of frescos in the small rotunda connecting the park and the gardens of the Royal Villa at Monza, Upon examining these frescos, which were painted in 1 789, I found them still in a perfect state of pres- ervation. In the centre of the vaulting is a circular medallion representing the apotheosis of Psyche, and in the triangular compartments over the doors and other openings in the walls of the rotunda are other scenes from the story of the same divinity. The best of all of them is the representation of Psyche borne to heaven by Mercury, which is ad- mirable in drawing and skilfully contrived so as to Museum at Florence, and the more important series of scenes from the life of Caesar (1836) in one of the rooms on the ground floor of the Pitti Palace. A eulogistic monograph, published at the expense of his pupils soon after his death, preserves the more important facts of his personal history, and contains a list of his works. 284 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. secure an absolutely correct effect of perspective. The original cartoons of these frescos are now at the Brera, in a part of the gallery not usually open to the public. I lay much less stress upon this early experiment than upon the frescos executed a few years later in the church of S. Maria presso S. Celso at Milan, since the work at Monza does not really give an adequate idea of Appiani’s powers. The Milanese church which he was commissioned to decorate is comparatively unknown to foreigners, but is really deserving of much more attention than it receives. It is called S. Maria presso S. Celso because it is built near (presso) an older church dedicated to the latter saint. The more modern structure dates from the first part of the sixteenth century, and pre- sents a remarkably beautiful and harmonious inte- rior, the perfect symmetry and unity of the effect being marred by only one feature — a gaudy silver altar placed against one of the piers supporting the cupola. When Appiani received the commission to decorate the church in 1791, he wished to paint the whole inner surface of the dome, but was con- fined by his patrons to the pendentives and to the semicircular spaces between them on the lateral walls, the hemisphere of the cupola itself being left without color ornamentation. On the pendentives we now see the four evangelists, and on the semi- circular spaces the four great doctors of the church : St. Ambrose, St. Gregory, St. Jerome, and St. Au- OTHER CLASSIC PAINTERS. 285 gustine. The frescos of the evangelists were exe- cuted with consummate skill, particularly in the matter of perspective, — the imitation of relief being so perfect that the figures appear to project forward from the curved surface on which they are painted. The style is that of Correggio, whom Appiani frankly selected as his model, making a journey to Parma in the spring of 1791 for the express purpose of studying the famous frescos in the cathedral and the church of S. Giovanni. While Appiani was at work upon the decorations at S. Maria presso S. Celso, an incident occurred which is of some interest as a revelation of his character, showing as it does his rather exagger- ated sense of the dignity of his vocation. He was occasionally visited upon his high stagings by the singer Marchesini, then one of the great figures of the operatic stage, and the two artists not un- naturally drifted now and then into discussions as to the relative importance of their respective arts. On one of the occasions, when the conversa- tion had taken this particular turn, Appiani warmed up to such an extent in the defence of the art of painting that he entirely lost his temper when his companion persistently asserted that music was just as important; and quite forgetting what he was doing he seized the champion of the lesser art by the shoulders and had forced him dangerously near the edge of the high platform before the assist- ant, who fortunately happened to be near, could 286 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. intervene. When the two men had had time to calm down and reflect upon what they had been doing, Appiani, overcome at the possible consequences of his hasty act, said gravely to his friend, “ Perhaps after this moment I never should have painted again.” “You may well say ‘ perhaps,’ ” said Mar- chesini, looking over the edge of the stagings with a shudder; “but in my case there would have been no contingency about it. I certainly never should have sung again ; the plunge would have been fatal.” After the frescos at S. Maria presso S. Celso the most important works of Appiani at Milan are the decorations which he executed in the Royal Palace under orders received at various dates from Napo- leon and from Eugene Beauharnais. The former conferred upon the clever artist the title of First Painter of His Majesty in Italy, and Appiani gloried in it, attaching the high-sounding appen- dage to his name whenever it was possible. The works which he painted in the Royal Palace consist of an Apotheosis of Napoleon (1808) in fresco on the ceiling of the apartment formerly used as the Throne Room, an allegorical composition (1810) representing Peace and Hymen (intended as an allusion to the emperor’s second marriage) on the ceiling of the present Throne Room, a long frieze (1805-1807) grisaille on the front of the balcony in the Hall of the Caryatides, and some minor deco- rations, — all of them mentioned and criticised in OTHER CLASSIC PAINTERS. 287 detail in Beretta’s monograph on Appiani’s work. The Apotheosis, which in its day was regarded as a masterpiece, impresses one at present as possessing very few of the merits which one looks for in a decorative fresco. It is doubtful whether one out of a hundred of those who pass beneath it would ever care to bestow upon it a sec- ond glance. By far the best of the works at the Royal Palace is the frieze in the Hall of the Cary- atides, painted in black and white oil-colors and rep- resenting scenes from the life of Napoleon. In the presence of these clever designs one is forced to concede that Appiani was really an artist of excep- tional talent, and that he showed more spontaneity of invention than any other Italian painter of his time. One of the best panels in the series is that on the window wall, representing the death of Des- saix, where we see the hero extended upon the ground with his companions in arms standing around him, sorrowfully listening to his last words. Few artists could have succeeded in so saturat- ing the scene with an expression of noble grief. Even the horses seem to join in the general mourn- ing. Nearer the centre, on the same side of the room, is a fine medallion head of Napoleon, which would have done credit to the hand of Canova. Appiani showed remarkable inventive power in this series of works. They seem purely spontane- ous, and not at all labored. The expression appro- priate to the action is rendered in each case with 288 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. great truth and force, and yet the style is through- out strictly classic, never assuming a naturalistic form. The whole frieze was engraved between 1807 and 1816, at an expense of over 115,000 francs. The small collection of works by Appiani, in the Gabinetto Appiani at the Brera, is in every way unworthy of him. I know of only one picture among those lining the walls of the room, which would be infallibly singled out as the work of a master, and that is the small auto-portrait of the artist himself, which is remarkably good in expres- sion, and as minutely perfect in finish as a minia- ture. Of the painter’s personality the public of the present day know little, but if they could know more they might possibly regard his work with a trifle more of interest. Appiani was a man of great energy and vigor, and he was at the same time a very clever man, — ingenious, audacious, always ready for an emergency. Underneath his digni- fied exterior were certain Bohemian traits which were known to his intimate friends but which were never revealed to the general public. It is stated that he was quite a musician, and that in the privacy of his own studio, when he had com- pleted a piece of work which particularly pleased him, he was in the habit of executing a pas seul before his canvas, accompanied by the music of his own violin. In proof of his cleverness in extri- cating himself from an embarrassing situation, I may mention that once when he was ordered by Napo- OTHER CLASSIC PAINTERS. 289 leon to enter a private house at Verona, in the capacity of commissioner of the French govern- ment, for the purpose of taking forcible possession of some valuable works of art, he suddenly fell ill and forwarded to his master a physician’s certificate, showing his total inability to leave his room. It is needless to remark that as soon as the pressure upon him was relieved, he immediately recovered his health and spirits, and devoted himself with great alacrity to more congenial tasks. The career of this clever and prolific artist was cut short in 1813 by a shock of paralysis, which was followed by his death in 1817 (November 8). I have said nothing of his works in oil, but will note here in conclusion that they are quite numerous, and are not infrequently encountered in the best private collections of this period. Appiani had more to do than any other one man with the bringing together of the collection of masterpieces which now form the major part of the Brera Gallery, and an interesting account of his share in this work will be found in Giulio Carotti’s preface to the official catalogue published in 1892. CHAPTER X. PRE-RAPHAELITISM AND ROMANTICISM. The English Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood takes its name from a group of artists established at Rome. — The leaders of the Roman frater- nity inaugurate a new art-movement which is known in Italy as purism. — Leading characteristics of the new movement and the particulars in which it differed from classicism. — The connection of Tom;/iaso Minay' di with the new movement. — Outline of his career. — Character of his work. — Comments on his drawings in the Ovidi collection at Rome. — Luigi Mussini a.nd his early affilia- tion with the purists. — His art studies at Florence and Rome. — Pre-Raphaelite character of one of his early pictures now in the Academy at Florence. — Works executed by Mussini during the period immediately following his return from Rome in 1844. — He joins the Tuscan volunteers in the war of 1848. — He establishes himself at Paris in 1849, of his pictures are purchased by the French government. — He accepts the post of director of the Academy of Fine Arts at Siena. — He paints an important picture for the Grand Duke of Tuscany which is now in the Academy at Florence. — His portrait of Victor Emmanuel. — His picture entitled L’Education a Sparte ” is exhibited at Paris and purchased for the Luxembourg. — Other works by Mussini. — The great mosaics on the facade of the cathedral at Siena. — Honors and titles conferred upon the artist. — Second phase of the reaction against classicism. — The romantic movement and its leading characteristics. — A/vz;/- cesco Hayez, the first of the Italian romantic painters. — His early studies at Venice and Rome. — His first romantic picture. — Success of this work when exhibited at Milan in 1820. — Hayez establishes his residence at the Lombard capital two years later. — General review of his work between 1825 and 1850. — His picture of Romeo and Juliet at the Villa Carlotta. — His fresco in the Royal Palace at 290 PRE-RAPHAELITISM AND ROMANTICISM. 29I Milan. — His works subsequent to 1850. — The Destruction of the Temple at Jerusalem. — The Study of a Nun’s Head. — Concluding remarks. Until the publication of the life of Ford Madox Brown by Mr. Hueffer, it was not I think very gen- erally known that the English Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood took its name from a similar organiza- tion in Rome which came into being about 1810, and of which the German painters Overbeck and Cornelius were the leading spirits. Brown went to Italy in 1844 and of course passed some time in Rome. While there he made the acquaintance of Overbeck and was somewhat impressed by the man and his ideas. On pages 44 and 45 of Mr. Hueffer’s work will be found a quotation from Brown’s de- scription of his visits to the studios of the two Ger- man painters, in which he speaks of both of them in terms of high praise. Of Overbeck’s work he says one could not see enough of it,” and of one of the cartoons of Cornelius he writes that it was “ full of action and strange character . . . everything the reverse of that dreadful commonplace into which art on the continent seems to be hurrying back.” And again on page 63, in speaking of the forma- tion of the English Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood, Mr. Hueffer makes the following quotation from some reminiscences dictated by Ford Madox Brown to himself : “ As to the name Pre-Raphaelite, when they (Rossetti and his associates) began talking about the early Italian masters I naturally told them 2Q2 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. of the German P.R.’s, and either it pleased them or not, I don’t know, but they took it.” In speaking of the German P.R.’s, Brown meant the fraternity of artists at Rome of whom Overbeck was at the time of his visit the leader. So far as I can learn from German writers, the name Pre-Raphaelite was not the one in common use to distinguish this par- ticular clique ; more often they were referred to as the Klosterbriider, from the fact of their having taken up their residence in a disestablished convent. But it was a fact that they found their artistic stand- ards in the work of the Italian Pre-Raphaelite painters, and either because of this circumstance, or because of some habit of designating them which Brown found or thought he found at Rome, the name of Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood came to be adopted by the famous English fellowship. English Pre-Raphaelitism when it first began to take definite shape as a movement, not merely adopted its name from the Roman brotherhood, but took some of its ideas from the same source. Ford Madox Brown’s picture of Wickliffe reading his Translation of the Bible to John of Gaunt, which was begun in November, 1847, and finished in March of the following year, is strongly suggestive in certain particulars of the style of Overbeck, and seems to show that the English master was really influenced by the German painter. Mr. Hueffer says of this picture that “ it drew from D. G. Ros- setti the letter which inaugurated the friendship of PRE-RAPHAELITISM AND ROMANTICISM. 293 the two artists ” (Rossetti and Brown), and W. M. Rossetti, on page 145 of his memoir of his brother, states that it “ had beyond a doubt served in some respects to mould the ideas and beacon the practice of the P.R.B.’s.” In view of the exceptional importance of the Pre-Raphaelite movement in England I have felt an interest in tracing out the influence of the same set of ideas in Italy; that is to say, the set of ideas brought to the front by Overbeck and Cornelius, and more particularly by the former. Certainly that influence was felt, but not to so marked an ex- tent as in England ; by which I mean to say that the painters who accepted the ideas of Overbeck in whole or in part, and who made themselves the leaders of the Italian Pre-Raphaelite movement, failed to create so large a following as the English Pre-Raphaelites. They were not so much talked of by the public, and the character of their move- ment did not become so clearly defined in the public mind. In Italy the term Pre-Raphaelite obtained no general currency until the echo of its use came back from England. The movement was known south of the Alps as purism, and its champions as purists. The principal element of the new move- ment was a reaction against classicism in respect to the subjects of works of art and in respect to the form of expression. This reaction in the case of Overbeck was not an affectation. He was a person 294 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. with a peculiar nature, in which the dominant trait came to be a sort of religious sentimentalism. A person of a masculine turn of mind would, upon reading his memoirs, be apt to come to the conclu- sion that he was a weak man. His strength really lay in the intensity and the genuineness of this one tendency. It was in his nature to dislike classicism, which was the product of a military and worldly epoch, and the whole range of classic subjects came to be odious to him. He had no liking for pagan deities, and Greek and Roman heroes. The ideal man or woman to him was a person with refined, intense, spiritual longings ; and he gravitated almost necessarily toward the painting of saints and of holy men and women. The second step, which led him to adopt the style of the Italian painters of the latter part of the fifteenth century, followed almost as a matter of course upon the first. The quality of asceticism in the style of the original Pre-Raphael- ites exactly suited the ideas which he had to express, and he naturally selected a similar medium for com- municating his thoughts. Among the native Italian artists who were promi- nently associated with the movement of the purists, the leading place is usually assigned to Tommaso Minardi. Minardi, although revered as the leader of a school, was not in any proper sense of the term a painter, and the influence which he exerted was largely confined to the direct effect of his work as a teacher. He had no especially acute sense of PRE-RAPHAELITISM AND ROMANTICISM. 295 color, and was consequently weak where it is most important that a painter should be strong. The only substantial equipment which he had for be- coming an artist was his ability to produce finished examples of drawing in the style of the old masters, if he bound himself rigidly down to his task. His weak point was his lack of perseverance. He en- joyed making sketches, but it was very distasteful to him to finish them. The first interest in the development of a new subject would be sufficient to carry him to the point of blocking out his idea in a general way ; but there his courage usually forsook him, and the sketch was almost sure to be left in the form of a mere preliminary study, and never developed into anything which could be called a finished work. His life was almost entirely devoid of incident. He was born at Faenza on the fourth day of De- cember, 1787, and was the son of a certain Carlo Minardi, who was a dyer by trade. When he was ten years old he surprised his parents by producing a clever drawing of a horse, which he executed with a crayon on the wall of one of the rooms in his father’s house ; and he was then given some ele- mentary instruction in the use of the pencil by a local teacher named Zauli. At the age of fifteen he obtained a pension from the Institute of St. Greg- ory at Faenza, which enabled him to go to Rome and continue his art studies in that city. Soon after arriving at Rome, he enrolled himself as a 2q6 history of modern ITALIAN ART. pupil of the Academy of St. Luke, and about 1812 or 1813 he entered a competition in drawing opened by the Franco-Italian government at Milan, in which all the pupils in the various academies in the prov- inces of Italy, then under French control, were allowed to take part. Minardi received the prize in this competition, and it is fair enough to accept the award of the committee of judges, which included among its members the engraver Giuseppe Longhi, as an indication that his skill in the management of the pencil was really very exceptional. About 1814 Minardi received a commission from Longhi to make a drawing of Michelangelo’s Last Judgment, from which Longhi himself intended to make an engraving ; and the young painter proba- bly commenced at once upon the execution of this arduous task.^ Three years later, however, he re- ceived an appointment as professor of painting at the Academy of Fine Arts at Perugia, and left Rome to assume the duties of his new position, remaining a resident of Perugia until 1821, when he was called back to the papal city by the offer of a simi- lar professorship at the Academy of St. Luke. It was in his capacity as professor in the latter in- stitution that he was brought into contact with the younger generation of Italian painters, and was enabled to bring to bear the large influence which he unquestionably exerted on the Roman art of his time. Late in life he consented to the publication ^ Finally completed in 1825. PRE-RAPHAELITISM AND ROMANTICISM. 297 of one of his lectures and of some other fragmentary statements of his art-views ; and these utterances make it perfectly clear that his whole msthetic sys- tem had as its corner-stone the idea that perfection was to be arrived at by imitating the work of the great masters of the past. He laid little stress upon the direct study of nature, although he pre- ferred the naturalistic to the classic type of the human figure. Minardi produced comparatively few finished pictures in oil, but left behind him many volumes of drawings, besides a large mass of sketches and studies. Among the paintings now in the Ovidi collection at Rome is an undated Holy Family, which shows that at the time when the work was executed Minardi was under the influence of the color-ideas of the school of Battoni. Most of his other studies in color in the same collection show the same peculiarities, the tones employed being invariably of the character favored by the leading Roman painters of the third quarter of the last century. The drawings in the Ovidi collection include several volumes of academic studies of draperies and portions of the nude figure, and a large num- ber of compositions on themes which were popular in Minardi’s day. One set of drawings, to whicli Luigi Ovidi has devoted a pamphlet, represents incidents of the famous Disfida di Barletta, a com- bat between French and Italian knights which took 298 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. place near one of the towns of southern Italy in 1 503. Another set is devoted exclusively to differ- ent representations of the Holy Family, a theme of which Minardi was evidently very fond. What one misses, both in the Holy Families and in the various compositions illustrating the Disfida di Barletta, is the element of vitality which can only be secured by the direct study of nature. Minardi apparently made these sketches in the solitude of his studio at odd moments when he had nothing else to do, rapidly jotting down his ideas upon paper without consulting or thinking it necessary to consult anything in the world of objective fact. The figures and faces all appear to be drawn ac- cording to a formula; and the composition, while it exhibits a certain variety, is confined to a variety within very narrow limits. The style in which these lesser works of imagination were executed remained much the same from the beginning to the end of the artist’s career, as is proved by the dates upon the drawings, which range from as early as 1819 to as late as 1863. The majority of them, I am obliged to say, seemed to me much more Raphaelite than Pre-Raphaelite; but occasionally a composition is encountered among them, like the drawing of the Madonna and Child with two saints, marked “ Imitation of the style of the XV century,” which shows that its author had thor- oughly assimilated the principles of Pre-Raphaelite art, and could produce works in that spirit with PRE-RAPHAELITISM AND ROMANTICISM. 299 quite as close fidelity to the great historic models as Overbeck himself. Minardi’s peaceful existence came to an end on the thirteenth day of January, 1871. He seems to have been held in very high esteem at Rome, both as an artist and as a man. It is even said that Pius IX offered to him the commission for the frescos in the Hall of the Immaculate Conception at the Vatican ; and if this is true, no stronger proof could be offered of the high estimate placed upon his talent by his contemporaries. Minardi was, as I am informed, a man of great modesty, and it was, perhaps, natural that he should decline to accept a proposition which, to almost any other artist, would have seemed irresistibly tempting. He undoubtedly realized that his executive ability was not sufficient to enable him to carry the work through to a satisfactory conclusion, and that it was the part of wisdom to resolutely put the temptation behind him and leave the burden to be assumed by stronger shoulders. Among the other Italian painters who were classified as purists by their contemporaries the leading place belongs to Luigi Mussini, a conscien- tious artist and clever man, whose life was mainly passed at Siena, and who, as director of the Siena Academy, transmitted his conscientious methods to several talented painters of the younger generation. Mussini was born at Berlin in 1813 (December 19), but did not arrive at his fondness for the form of 300 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. art favored by Overbeck because of that circum- stance, or because he imbibed any German sym- pathies with the air which he breathed in his infancy. Indeed, his sympathies were much more French than German, — so far as they drew him toward any models not purely Italian, — because French was the language of his family and, in after life, French literature and French art attracted his attention quite to the exclusion of any other foreign models. Mussini s father was a musician, and at the time of the boy’s birth was Kapellmeister at the court of Prussia. His mother was the daughter of another Italian musician, who had exercised a similar func- tion at the court of Catharine II of Russia; and for many years French had been the only language spoken in the family. This was the origin of the young painter’s French sympathies, and it was this accidental circumstance which probably induced him to select Paris as his home at that precise moment in his career when his hopes of making a name for himself in Italy were at their lowest ebb, and when he felt compelled to look somewhere else for more congenial surroundings. Very soon after the birth of Luigi, the Mussini family left Berlin on account of the frail health of one of the children, and settled in Florence where the whole of the painter’s childhood was passed. When old enough to begin to receive instruction, he commenced his art studies under his brother Cesare, who also enjoys some reputation as a PRE-RAPHAELITISM AND ROMANTICISM. 301 painter, and later passed through the several grades of the Florence Academy, becoming, in turn, the pupil of Benvenuti and of Bezzuoli. “ Disgusted with Bezzuoli s methods,” writes Mussini in an auto- biographical fragment, “ I pursued certain outside studies on my own account, in the cloisters and chapels and wherever I could find those admirable works of the masters of the fifteenth century which were such a revelation to me ; I might almost say such a revolution, since under their influence I was led to rebel against the Academy and abandon its classes, only retaining sufficient connection with it to enable me to preserve certain rights and privi- leo;es which were of value to me. ... I arrane-ed a studio in the house where I lived, and painted there my first independent picture, Samuel anoint- ing Saul, and when it was nearly finished I asked Professor Benvenuti, as I was in duty bound to do, to come and pass judgment upon it. He looked at it in silence for some time and then said, ‘You have struck out upon a new course, but it is not a bad one, and you will do well to persevere in it.’ ” “ When my picture was exhibited at Florence,” Mussini continues, “ I was immediately hailed as a purist. And inasmuch as my purism was not a merely servile imitation of the German form of that cult with its plagiarisms and borrowed ideas, but rested on original studies of nature, the younger artists . . . very generally commended me for my efforts, possibly because the style which I had 302 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. adopted impressed them as something novel. And if it was novel, it was due to the fact that up to this time the movement in favor of a closer study of the earlier masters had had no representative in Tus- cany except Marini, who had produced certain Madonnas in which he had feebly endeavored to imitate the neo-purism of the Germans ; and outside of Tuscany by Minardi and his followers, who had devoted their whole energies to the production of certain stereotyped imitations of Raphael, so mean- ingless and empty that they passed into vacancy as soon as created and counted for nothing. In 1837 the Academy gave out, as the subject for the tri- ennial competition, Christ Driving the Money- changers from the Temple, and I entered the lists with enthusiasm. But the death of my father, which occurred in that year, prevented me from finishing my picture in time to participate in the award. The next year I was able to complete my work, and when it was exhibited it was received with much favor by the public and by the students in the Academy.” Mussini goes on to say that in 1840 he entered the competition for the prix de Rome, and was so fortunate as to win the prize ; and this circumstance of course brought his resi- dence at Florence to an end, for the time being, and necessitated the removal of his headquarters to the papal city. The record of his life at Rome is almost wholly lost, and we only know that he made the acquaint- PRE-RAPHAELITISM AND ROMANTICISM. 303 ance of all the leading artists of the day who were then residing there, including the painters and musicians at the French Academy. Ingres and Gounod were among the members of that distin- guished fellowship with whom he had some con- tact ; but it is necessary to add that, in the case of both of them, the relation was one of simple friend- ship, and that Mussini never became, as has some- times been asserted, the pupil of the distinguished French purist. During his residence at Rome the young Italian artist, as in duty bound, sent back to the Florence Academy several envois as proofs of his progress ; and one of these, now hanging in the academic collection of modern paintings (Room IV), is particularly interesting as an example of his style when it conformed most closely to the princi- ples of purism. I refer to the work entitled Musica Sacra, which presents a single figure of Perugi- nesque type, holding a scroll in her hand and standing beneath a cinquecento arch, like that which forms the framework of Albertinelli’s Visita- tion. Every detail of the work is made to con- form to early renaissance models, and the picture as a whole is much more strictly Pre-Raphael- ite than any of the productions of Dante Gabriel Rossetti. Upon the expiration of his pension in 1844 Mussini returned to Florence, and opened a studio, but received relatively little encouragement from resident or foreign patrons. The list of his works 304 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. painted between 1844 and 1848 contains only two imaginative subjects, and only seven works in all, the other five being portraits. Among those who sat to him for portraits was the sculptor Giovanni Du- pre, then and ever afterward a close friend of Mussini and an enthusiastic admirer of his talent. At the outbreak of the war with Austria in 1848, the young painter abandoned his studio and joined the army in the field, enrolling himself among the crociati, or crusaders, as the Tuscan volunteers in the Italian forces were romantically called. At different stages of the campaign he wrote brilliant letters to his family, picturesquely describing the phases of mili- tary life of which he was the witness ; but unfortu- nately (as he felt) he had no opportunity to take part in any active engagement. Toward the close of his experience he became somewhat disillusioned ; war lost something of its charm for him ; and when he was finally compelled, by the cessation of hostili- ties, to return to his home in August, 1848, he was not precisely in the mood for taking a favorable view of the situation so far as his own art and the chances for its successful practice in Italy were con- cerned. Florence was indeed a much-agitated city during the last half of the year 1848 and the first half of the year 1849. One form of government succeeded another at intervals of three or four months ; and in this state of affairs, becoming con- vinced that there was no chance for an artist in the midst of so much turmoil and confusion, Mussini PRE-RAPHAELITISM AND ROMANTICISM. 305 deliberately gave up his prospects of an Italian career and turned his face toward Paris. His term of residence at the French capital proved, however, to be extremely brief, — a mere episode in his career instead of a permanent change of environment. He took with him to Paris several of his pictures, borrowed for the purpose from their owners, and exhibited, soon after his arrival, the Mu sic a Sacra, which belonged to the Florence Academy, and another work, entitled the Triumph of Truth, which was, I believe, the property of the Marquis Ala Ponzoni of Milan. Soon after establishing himself in his new home, he resumed his friendship with the distinguished artists with whom he had become acquainted at the French Academy at Rome and seems to have made rapid headway, socially, on the strength of his good breed- ing, his amiability, his remarkable tact, his brilliancy in conversation, and his perfect familiarity with the French language. At the country house of a nobleman of his acquaintance he found himself vis-a-vis at the card table with the beautiful Count- ess Eugenie de Montijo, and would undoubtedly, if he had remained longer at Paris, have come to be regarded as one of the men whose presence was essential in any representative gathering of the leading litterateurs and artists of the day. The French government immediately showed its dis- position to look favorably upon his work by promptly offering to purchase both the Musica 306 history of modern ITALIAN ART. Sacra and the Triumph of Truth; and, finding that both works were already owned by others, the government commissioned a replica of the former, and a second painting, upon any subject which Mussini might- select, to replace the latter. The subject which the artist in fact chose for his second picture was the Platonic symposium arranged by Lorenzo de’ Medici at Careggi, a work which Mussini afterward (1862) repeated for the city of Turin for the municipal Gallery of Modern Art. The replica may now be seen in that collec- tion, a solidly executed work, firm in its drawing, accurate in the pose and expression of the figures, and sober without being sombre in its coloring. The original cartoon, now in the National Gallery of Modern Art at Rome, presents the same sub- ject without the adjunct of color, and shows Mus- sini’s perfect mastery of the system of drawing practised by the masters of the best period of Italian art. Before this work was completed in its first form, the artist had received the offer of the directorship of the Academy at Siena which drew him back to Italy; and the original of the Parentali di Platone was not delivered to the French government until after the brief episode of its author’s French residence had been brought to a close. The offer from Siena was made to Mussini in 1851, and he had already begun his life in his new home before the close of that 3^ear. EUIJORUS GIVING HIS CLOAK TO A SLAVE FROM THE PAINTING liV MUSSINI IN THE ACADEMY OF FINE ARTS FLORENCE 1 ■;r •. ■••J n ; f i; / ;'S \. v‘V ! ’ - PRE-RAPHAELITISM AND ROMANTICISM. 307 The duties which devolved upon him as direc- tor of the Siena Academy were, from the first, very engrossing, and his independent production as an artist was, in consequence, not very large. One of his best pictures, representing the hero and heroine of Chateaubriand’s story of The Mar- tyrs, hangs at present in Room III of the gallery of modern pictures in the Academy at Florence. The precise incident in the story selected for illustration was that where Eudorus, who is a Christian, takes pity upon a naked slave and gives him his cloak, while the heroine Cymodocea, who is still a pagan, looks on in wonderment, unable to conceive what could prompt him to such an action. The refined type of the faces and the elevation and nobility of the sentiments which they express show Mussini’s deep sympath}^ with what is best in human nature ; and the smooth and highly finished execution make clear his continuing loyalty to the art-principles which were taught him when a young man. The picture was painted in 1854-1855, upon a commission from the Grand Duke of Tuscany. After the successful political and military move- ments of 1859 had made Victor Emmanuel not only King of Sardinia, but potential sovereign of the whole of north Italy, Mussini was summoned to Turin to paint the portrait of the successful leader of the great campaign. I cannot learn what became of this portrait, but the honor of 3o8 history of modern Italian art. being accorded a sitting was at that time an excep- tional one, and enabled the painter to form the personal acquaintance of one of the most notable characters in Italian history. The king gave to Miissini the uniform which he wore at the battle of S. Martino, and after keeping it for many years as a precious memento the artist presented it to the city of Siena. After i860, as the work of the younger school of Italian artists came more and more into favor, Mussini s conscientious adherence to the principles of the older school subjected him to some hostile criticism. At an exposition held at Florence in April, 1868, he was represented by an altar-piece, intended for the Siena cathedral, bearing the figure of S. Crescenzio upon a gold ground ; and the com- ments of the critics, who referred to his new work as showing “ his usual defect of excessive purism,” naturally caused him much annoyance, more par- ticularly because the quality then pointed out as a defect was the very one which at the commence- ment of his career had been singled out as the special merit of his work. Convinced that the lack of appreciation was due to the perversion of the taste of the public by those who were endeavoring to find an audience for the productions of the verists, as he termed them, he resolved to try the effect of one more work on the Parisian public, upon whose judgment he felt that he could more confidently rely than upon that of his fellow-Ital- PRE-RAPHAELITISM AND ROMANTICISM. 309 ians. He therefore commenced in 1868 a new picture, entitled Spartan Education, which he com- pleted in the following year and exhibited at Paris in October and November 1869. The picture was purchased by the French government for the Lux- embourg, and this Parisian success went far toward healing the wound which had been inflicted upon the sensitive artist by the hostile attitude of the Florentine critics the year before. Mussini went to Paris himself for the purpose of making the necessary arrangements for exhibiting this picture ; and the letters which he wrote back to Siena, more particularly one letter which he ad- dressed to his favorite pupil, Alessandro Franchi, are fairly triumphant in their tone. He was warmly received by certain members of the Institute with whom he was personally acquainted, and was pres- ent at one of the Saturday sittings of the Academie des Beaux- Arts. “It was arranged,” he writes, “ that a room should be placed at my disposal at the Ecole des Beaux-Arts, and this offer — a favor which had never been granted to any one before — was made to me by the director himself, who was present at the sitting. At the same time a wish was expressed by the academicians that, in order to give them an opportunity to see my picture to- gether, it might be shown at the Institute the next Saturday before it was taken to the Ecole des Beaux- Arts. This I regarded as a very delicate compli- ment, and it gave me a unique opportunity for ob- 310 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. serving the effect of my work on an assemblage com- posed of the foremost artists of France — painters, sculptors, architects, engravers, and composers. At the same time, I knew that the test would be an exceedingly rigid one, considering the excessively exacting standards which are applied in Paris to all works of art, and especially to paintings. I counted, therefore, upon a polite and respectful attitude toward my work and some well-turned com- pliments, but expected to detect underneath them a certain amount of haughty reserve. In this I was very agreeably disappointed. I should find it hard to describe to you the immediate and spontaneous admiration with which the picture was received : admiration which seemed unanimous, warm, sincere, and hearty. I was really much moved by it. . . . They went so far as to say that they wished the students at the Ecole des Beaux-Arts might also have been admitted to the private view, because they thought it might serve as an incentive to them to persevere in the sound methods which so many artists have abandoned.” One of Mussini’s last important undertakings was the preparation of the cartoons for the two great mosaics, representing the Coronation of the Virgin and the Nativity, which now fill the central gable and the lesser gable over the right nave of the cathedral at Siena, and which were substituted in 1S78 for the relief-decorations for- merly filling the same spaces. The works are exe“ PRE-RAPHAELITISM AND ROMANTICISM. 31 1 cuted in the style of the fifteenth century, and the design in the central gable is strongly suggestive of the compositions of Fra Angelico. There were few Italian painters of Mussini s time who would have been willing to adopt so frankly the style of an earlier epoch, and to efface so completely their own individuality; and it is very fortunate that the di- rection of the work was entrusted to him. Among other works of Mussini, in the same style, I ought, perhaps, to mention the figures of S. Isabella and S. Edwiga which form the principal decoration of the modest monument to the Baroness Garriod in the cloister of S. Maria Novella at Florence, and which conform quite as strictly to the Pre-Raphael- ite formula as any of the paintings of Overbeck. Mussini died on the eighteenth day of June, 1888. The numerous diplomas accorded to him by Italian academies, and the orders of knighthood bestowed upon him by Italian and foreign sovereigns, indicate the general respect in which he was held as an artist and as a man. Among the many honors of this sort, Mussini perhaps prized most highly his connection with the French Institute, of which he became a corresponding member as early as 1859, and his enrolment amono* the KniMits of the Order o o of Civil Merit of the House of Savoy, a distinction conferred upon him by King Humbert in 1887. I should perhaps also mention that he performed active service for several years, commencing in i860 as a member of the Consulta (afterward 312 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. Giunta Superiore) di Belle Arti, a permanent com- mittee charged with the duty of advising the gov- ernment in matters connected with the fine arts. Beside being a skilful painter, Mussini also pos- sessed unusual literary talent, as is abundantly proved by the volumes of essays and miscellaneous papers published in his lifetime under the titles of Scritti (£ Arte (1880) and Di palo in frasca (1888); and more particularly by the volume of his letters published after his death with a prefatory biography by Luisa Anzoletti. The brilliancy and cleverness of these familiar epistles show that Mussini might have risen to a place in the first rank among writers of entertaining literature, if he had not deliberately selected art as his vocation, and abandoned all thought of distinguishing himself in any other field. Without attempting at this point to follow the work of the Pre-Raphaelites, or purists, any further, I shall devote the rest of this chapter to reviewing the career of the leader of another movement in art which was going on at the same time as the move- ment just considered, and which was quite as far- reachiner in its effects. The reaction as^ainst classi- cism did not follow out a single line, but separated into two divisions. Overbeck, with his Italian sympathizers, headed one of these ; and Francesco Hayez, a Venetian painter who passed the greater part of his life at Milan, headed another. The sec- ond phase of the reaction had, as its leading feature, a revived interest in the life of the middle ages with PRE-RAPHAELITISM AND ROMANTICISM. 313 all its romantic accessories; and writers from 1820 clown to the present date have found it convenient to refer to the movement in its broadest aspect as romanticism, and to its champions and followers as romanticists. The romantic movement, looking at its essential characteristics, was first of all an emotional one, — a bringing forward of subjects of passionate human interest in place of the dispassionate themes favored by the classicists. It was marked, in the second place, by the revival of an interest in the external aspects, incidents, and accessories of medimval life. The mere costumes, surroundings, and epidermis, if I may use the word, of the life of the middle ages came to possess an extraordinary fascination for people who were tired of classic togas, Roman temples, and Greek statues, and who were pre- pared to welcome anything which offered a change from these stale accessories and exhausted artistic properties.^ 1 The romantic movement seems to have been primarily literary in its origin, while the classic movement was primarily plastic and pictorial, going back as it did to the crusade of Mengs and Winckel- mann against the baroque, and their insistence upon a closer imitation of the Greeks and of the work of the Italian artists of the first classic revival. As a literary movement romanticism is admitted to be of Ger- man origin . One of the first examples of romantic literature was Goethe’s Gotz von Berlichingen, which was published in 1773. The romantic idea was further developed and popularized in Germany by Schiller's famous play, Die Rauber, which was brought out at Mannheim in 1782, and which was followed in 1783 by Fiesco. In Great Britain a translation of Gbtz von Berlichingen, by Walter Scott, was published in 1799, and this exotic specimen of romanticism was followed by the HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. 314 Francesco Hayez, the first of the Italian romantic painters, was born at Venice February ii, 1791, the peculiar un-Italian character of his name being ex- plained by the fact that his father was descended from a Flemish family originally settled at Valenciennes. In his education as an artist there was nothing to direct his attention toward romanticism, although romantic literature, in the shape of the plays of Schiller, was in existence before he was born. His early training under private masters, and afterward at the old Academy of Fine Arts at Venice, was all strictly classic. In 1809 he won the prix de Rome in an open competition at the Venice Academy, and original poem of the Lay of the Last Minstrel, in 1805, by Marmion in 1808, and by the Lady of the Lake in 1810. English romanticism received a more exuberant development on its emotional side in Byron’s Childe Harold, the first cantos of which were written as early as 1812, and which was followed before 1816 by the Giaour, the Bride of Aby- dos, the Corsair, and Lara. All these poems became later very popu- lar in Italy, and furnished many themes for the Italian romantic painters. As an aesthetic movement, in the sense of furnishing a theme for painters, some of the very earliest manifestations of romanticism were English. The so-called Boydell Gallery of Shakespearian scenes con- tained many pictures which were conceived in the mediaeval spirit and which may be fairly regarded as among the pioneer examples of roman- ticism in art. Early examples of artistic work of the same spirit, in Germany, were the illustrations prepared by Cornelius for Goethe’s Faust, first published in 1816; this first publication being followed by others containing illustrations of Romeo and Juliet and the Niebelungen Lied, all of them purely anti-classic in character and tending to help on the anti-classic reaction. Julius Schnorr, who later became con- spicuous among the German champions of romanticism, painted at Vienna in 1816 his romantic picture of the Kampf auf Lipadusa and as early as that date there was already an organized group of anti- classicists among the young men in the Vienna Academy. PRE-RAPHAELITISM AND ROMANTICISM. 315 passed the years from 1809 to 1817 studying and working at the papa] city, where he was protected by Canova. Here, as at Venice, he studied exclu- sively the models of classic art. In 1812 he took part in a competition opened by the Milan Academy for a painting on the subject of Laocoon and his sons struggling with the serpents, and won the prize with a picture which is now in the Brera Gallery (Room XXIII). The work is well painted, but of course shows no traces of romanticism. It was so much admired in its day that young students painted copies of it as they painted copies of Raphael, and one of these copies (by Angelo Inganni) may now be seen in the Tosio Gallery at Brescia. In 1817 Hayez was summoned back to Venice to paint one of the large pictures which his native city proposed to present to the Emperor Francis I of Austria on the occasion of his marriage to Caroline of Bavaria, and he remained at Venice to execute this and other commissions until 1820, intending all the time to return to Rome. In 1820 he painted his first romantic picture, repre- senting the patriot Pietro Rossi taking leave of his family to assume the command of the forces of the Venetian republic. The subject was sug- gested to him by something which he read in Sismondi’s history of the Italian republics of the middle ages, a work which came out between 1807 and 1818, and which furnished many subjects to Italian painters. Sismondi was Italian by descent, 3i6 history of modern ITALIAN ART. but can hardly be claimed as an Italian author inasmuch as he was a Protestant, wrote in French, and lived at Geneva. Hayez took his romantic picture to Milan, which was then as now the prin- cipal intellectual centre of northern Italy, exhibited it there in 1820, and sold it to the Marquis Giorgio Pallavicini. The picture became the talk of the town, and the painter, who immediately became famous, was introduced to Manzoni, the father of Italian romantic literature, and to all the other persons of note residing at the Lombard capital. The painting which made Hayez’ reputation is a work which would now be regarded as almost totally lacking in merit of any kind. It repre- sented a man in armor standing in the centre of a Gothic room with his family gathered about him, urging him to desist from his purpose of leaving them. The expression of emotion, both as inter- preted by the faces and attitudes of the figures, was very weak. The only thing which gave the picture any value as a work of art was the rejection of the external features of the classic style, and the substitution of costumes and accessories of a pseudo- medimval character. Still the work is important as marking a change of direction in the tendencies of Italian art. It is a guide-board standing where two roads divide. After the successful exhibition of this painting Hayez went back to Venice and remained there until 1822, when he returned to Milan to deliver to PRE-RAPHAELITISM AND ROMANTICISM. 317 his patrons the new pictures which had been com- missioned in 1820. It was his intention after he had turned over these canvases to their owners to continue his journey to Rome, which he still re- garded as the best place for the practice of his art, and where he supposed that he could still rely upon the protection of Canova. His plans, however, were destined to undergo an entire change. Canova died at Venice in October, 1822, and at about the same time Luigi Sabatelli, who was just setting out for Florence to commence the frescos in the Hall of the Iliad, asked Hayez to assume the duties of his professorship at the Milan Academy during his absence. These accidental circumstances perma- nently fixed the residence of the young Venetian artist at Milan. During the two years of his tenure of the professorship of painting at the Academy he was steadily winning patrons among Milanese con- noisseurs, and at the time of Sabatelli’s resumption of the duties of his chair, in 1825, the younger artist was too well established to think of commencing his career anew in another city. In the twenty-five years which immediately fol- lowed (1825-1850) he devoted himself to a career of rapid production. There are about one hundred and thirty paintings in the list of his works pro- duced during this period. He did not confine him- self to romantic themes, but painted many religious pictures, and occasionally selected a classic subject. Hayez was of an easy-going nature, and not one of 3i8 history of modern ITALIAN ART. those out-and-out reformers who throw themselves with passionate earnestness into a new movement. He took up his first romantic subject by accident rather than by conviction, and continued to work out the vein simply because it proved fruitful. His largest romantic picture and the one upon which he expended the most effort is the painting called The Thirst of the Crusaders, which was commissioned by King Carlo Alberto, of Sardinia, and which the painter worked upon at intervals from 1836 to 1850. The theme was suggested by a poem of Tommaso Grossi, and the scene, as implied by the subject, represents the distress and suffering caused to the crusaders, in their camp before Jerusalem, by the scarcity of water. The work as a whole has a certain agreeable flavor of romanticism, something like that which characterizes the novels of Sir Walter Scott, but it is somewhat feeble in expres- sion if we look at the faces in detail. Hayez’ best romantic picture is the large painting in the Villa Carlotta, on Lake Como, representing Romeo taking leave of Juliet, which was painted for Count Sommariva in 1824. The young lover stands with one arm about his mistress, while he grasps with his other hand the casement of the window as if just about to spring out. Outside, in the dim morning light, one catches a glimpse of a tall slen- der tower, and of some tapering cypresses, which, inanimate as they are, are profoundly charged with medimval sentiment. In the gloom of the chamber PRE-RAPHAELITISM AND ROMANTICISM. 319 a third figure is dimly seen, — the nurse one im- agines, — taking pains to keep herself in the dark- ness so as not to disturb the parting scene between the two lovers. Too many of Hayez’ pictures are painted with a mechanical touch and in a stereotyped style, but every line of this picture at the Villa Carlotta is pregnant with deep and genuine senti- ment; every stroke of the brush is laid on with loving solicitude. The most important work in fresco which Hayez ever painted is the large medallion in the ceiling of the Hall of the Caryatides, in the Royal Palace at Milan, which was executed in forty days just before the commencement of the festivities attending the coronation of the Austrian emperor with the Iron Crown of Lombardy in 1838. The painter selected the apotheosis of the sovereign as his subject, and developed his idea by placing his imperial majesty on a throne in the upper part of the composition surrounded by figures emblematic of his virtues, while other figures, emblematic of the evil in the world, are being driven into a cavern which yawns at the bottom of the picture. The general con- ception is obviously conventional, but the distribu- tion of the fissures is on the whole well manacled. Of the merits of the coloring it is impossible to judge when the room is illuminated only from the windows, the light of the many chandeliers being necessary to properly bring out the effect. In 1850, upon the death of Sabatelli, Hayez sue- 320 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. ceeded to his place as professor of painting at the Milan Academy, and held the position until his vol- untary retirement in 1880. At that date he was made honorary president of the Academy, and re- tained this title until his death, February ii, 1882. He continued to work in his studio up to within a few months, I might almost say a few days, of the end of his life. Between i860 and 1870 he painted about twenty-six pictures, and between 1870 and 1881 about forty more, most of them being por- traits or studies of heads. The works produced in the decade between i860 and 1870 include the portrait of Cavour (1864), now in the Brera Gallery (Room XX), and The Destruction of the Temple at Jerusalem (1867), in the Directors’ Room in the Academy of Fine Arts at Venice. The latter is a work of much interest and almost unique in style among the pictures of this period, showing the Emperor Titus, robed in red with a crown of gilded laurel leaves on his head, standing on the steps of the Temple while the struggle between his followers and the defenders of the sacred place goes on about him. One of the very best works painted in the next decade was the Study of a Nun’s Head (1879), of which a reproduction is given in this book. Hayez was eighty-eight years old when he executed this study, and yet it appears to be the work of a young man. It is characterized by none of his mannerisms ; for the moment he turned his back upon tradition and transferred STUDY OF A NUN’S HEAD FROM THE PAINTING I!Y HAYEZ X- ■j ' y- y -.i^ PRE-RAPHAELITISM AND ROMANTICISM. 321 literally to his canvas the image which he saw before him. Upon a general survey of Hayez’ work it becomes evident that his greatest merit was his ability to render a subject with remarkable vitality and truth, if he exerted himself to do so, and his greatest defect his inclination to rest content with a rela- tively low standard of accomplishment if his patrons appeared to be satisfied with it. The effect of his early academic studies had been to store away in his mind something like a lay-figure with a certain form and face which he could always summon up to his mental vision and arrange according to the proper pose for each of the various actors in the scene which he proposed to paint; and when he con- tented himself with this mechanical realization of his subject the picture which was the outcome of the process was not apt to possess much permanent value. How well able he was, however, to paint a living head and face truthfully and poetically is shown by the Study of the Nun’s Head; and a number of his more important canvases, like the Romeo and Juliet at the Villa Carlotta, furnish conclusive proof of his ability to produce large and elaborate compositions of equal vitality and truth when he felt that the situation demanded special effort and exerted himself to do his best work. CHAPTER XI. OTHER PHASES OF THE REACTION AGAINST CLASSICISM. Difficulty in classifying the painters of this period. — Character of the work of Fi'ancesco Podesti. — His early studies under classic masters and subsequent contact with the purists and romanticists. — Classic picture in the Podesti Gallery at Ancona. — This early work is followed by an altar-piece in an entirely different style. — The Martyrdom of St. Lawrence, in the cathedral of St. Cyriac. — Comments on this work. — The Studio of Raphael, in the Torlonia Palace at Rome. — Other important works in oil. — Podesti as a fresco-painter. — Other painters of this period. — Fi'a^icesco Coghetti and his work. — Giuseppe Mancinelli. — His early studies at Naples and Rome. — Pictures by this artist now in public collections at Naples. — Painters at Florence. — The younger Sabatelli. — Com- ments on their work at the Academy and at S. Croce. — Notes on other Tuscan artists of this period. — Painting at Venice. — Im- portant picture by Pojnpeo Mohneiiti representing the Arrest of Filippo Calendario. — Antonio Zona and his work. — Artists at Turin. — Andrea Gastaldi and the character of his talent. — Masswio W'Azeglio as a landscape-painter. The reader will have seen that the spirit of the two divergent movements to which Minardi and Hayez belonged was not by any means defined in their work with the clearness with which the spirit of classicism was defined in the work of Camuccini and his contemporaries. And this was true in general of the work of all the leading painters of the middle period of the present century. The fact 322 THE PERIOD OF TRANSITION. 323 that two movements were in existence at the same time showed in itself alone that there was a lack of that entire unanimity in the thoughts of the whole art-world which is necessary to bring the entire art-product into unison. If we take up, for example, the work of Francesco Podesti, the most successful of the Roman painters of this period, we shall find that he was neither distinctly a classicist nor distinctly a romanticist ; that in short it is impossible to confine him to any smaller category than the general one of “ figure- painter.” His early studies at Ancona (where he was born March 21, 1800), were probably classic so far as they had any decided drift at all. When he abandoned his native city and went to Rome to continue his studies he found himself in a densely classic atmosphere, and all his work for a while received its form and coloring from this influence. But he was still a young man at the time when the reaction of 1820 set in toward purism and romanti- cism ; and some of the ideas of both of these new movements were embodied in his subsequent work. After 1830 I am not aware that he produced any- thing of distinctly classic character ; but in leaving the camp of the classicists he did not go over definitely either to that of the romanticists or purists, and therefore cannot be classified as an unqualified partisan either of Minardi or Hayez. Podesti’s general characteristics were great viva- city, inexhaustible energy, a desire and an ability 324 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. to do his work promptly, and a certain cleverness in catching hold of whatever ideas might be in the wind. As a man he seems to me in every respect admirable, a charming companion, of inexhaustible wit and equally inexhaustible good humor ; and these qualities almost necessarily led the people of his time, and have led his critics since then, to take a charitable view of his work, even in cases where its defects were far more obvious than its merits. It is undeniably true that Podesti sometimes sank dangerously near to the level of mediocrity, but it is equally true that in occasional instances he rose to a high level and showed that his talent was quite superior to that of the rank and file of the merely mechanical picture-makers of his time. Although classicism is not the subject of this chapter, I must say a word or two in passing of Podesti s early classic work. Upon arriving at Rome in i8i6, he visited the studios both of Canova and Camuccini, and was greatly impressed with what he saw there. Canova’s success was so be- wildering that he was almost tempted for a while to abandon his purpose of studying painting and devote himself to sculpture. Perhaps the nearly equal brilliancy of Camuccini’s reputation had something to do with holding him to the wiser course. The influence of the latter, however, as of the former, tended at this time to confine his attention strictly to the principles of classic art. Of his connection with Camuccini, I may say that THE PERIOD OF TRANSITION. 325 he not only looked admiringly on his works, but made copies of them, and raised some money by the sale of these copies, to assist him in pursuing his studies. There is an early classic work by Podesti in the museum now bearing his name at Ancona, which was produced while the charm of classicism still remained unbroken, and which I believe to be one of the most perfect in execution of any of the smaller canvases in the classic manner now in Italy. This is the picture entitled Eteocles and Polynices (the subject being taken from one of Alfieri’s dramas), which he painted in 1824 and presented to his native city as a mark of his appreciation of the financial aid which had been extended to him by the municipality. It is distinctly superior as a work of art to some of the similar productions of Appiani, — as, for example, the Toilet of Venus, which the latter painted for the Empress Josephine, and which is now in the Tosio Gallery at Brescia. Appiani drew his faces, in the work just referred to, according to a formula and produced characterless results ; Podesti studied the expression and move- ment of his figures from life and made the passion- ate action of the scene extremely striking and effective, while at the same time he adhered with perfect fidelity to the traditions of the classic style. But this is virtually the only strictly classic work by which Podesti is now known. Very soon after 326 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. the completion of the Eteocles and Polynices, he commenced (1826) the grave and serious altar-piece in the cathedral of St. Cyriac at Ancona, in which he abandoned the classic manner altogether and adopted the style which he had acquired from the study of the masters of the renaissance. I wish that the work of which I am now speaking had been placed in one of the churches at Rome, rather than in the cathedral at Ancona, because it would do so much for the reputation of its author if its merits could be more generally known. Podesti adopted a difficult subject — the Martyrdom of St. Lawrence — but kept strictly within the line which separates the sublime from the ridiculous. Italian artists of the primitive period were in the habit of representing the saint as expiring upon a very real- istic gridiron, but in the picture of which I am now speaking the instrument of torture bears a much closer resemblance to a couch than it does to any utensil of the kitchen. The coloring is harmonious and subdued, suggesting the style of Guercino much more than it does that of any of the painters of Podesti s time ; and the drawing, modelling, and ex- pression of the figures reach a high degree of merit, closely approaching perfection. The canons of the cathedral accepted the work as a masterpiece and the artist himself justly regarded it with considerable complacency. The story is told that once, as he stood before it, he was heard to say to himself, “Ah, my dear fellow, you will never equal that again ! ” The THE PERIOD OF TRANSITION. 327 applause was really justified ; but unfortunately the doubt which it suggested as to his own future per- formances was subsequently verified. Verified, I should perhaps say, with a single excep- tion : this one exception being the picture entitled the Studio of Raphael, famous in its day, which now hansfs in one of the ground-floor salons of the Palazzo Torlonia at Rome. This painting still de- serves to be famous. Podesti has brought together, in judicious grouping, in a room imagined to be the studio of Raphael, the great painter himself, his picture of the Madonna of Foligno, his patron Sigismondo de’ Conti, his friends Bramante and Baldassare Castiglione, and his pupils Giulio Ro- mano and Pierino del Vaga. The faces, I presume, are portraits, but their accuracy as likenesses is less important in this particular case than the justness of their expression as actors in the scene which Podesti has chosen to depict. The figure and head of Bramante are particularly fine, painted with ex- traordinary force and with much minuteness, sug- gesting — across the gulf which separates the styles of the two artists — the fine characterization of Meissonier. This remarkable canvas was exhibited at Milan in 1838, and a small copy was made of it in enamel-colors by Pietro Bagatti-Valsecchi, which may now be seen in the gallery of the Ambrosian library, on a revolving stand near one of the win- dows : a copy which, of course, falls far short of the merit of the original in the expression of the faces. 328 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. but which gives a correct idea of the composition and of the general effect of the work. Among the pictures painted by Podesti after the date of the Studio of Raphael, the most important are the Judgment of Solomon, commissioned by King Carlo Alberto in 1836, the Siege of Ancona, painted between 1844 and 1850 and subsequently exhibited at Paris and London, and the Martyrdom of St. Stephen, completed in 1851 for the chapel of that saint in the basilica of St. Paul at Rome. The latter work, while it is cleverly drawn and skilfully composed, has a certain quality of prettiness (I know no other word to describe it) which discrimi- nates it in the sharpest manner from the serious, noble, and dignified St. Lawrence in the cathedral of St. Cyriac. The large picture of the Siege of Ancona, which was commissioned by the artists native town, is now hidden away from sight in the small museum to which the painter’s appreciative fellow-citizens have given the name of Pinacoteca Podesti. The scene represented is not the actual repulse of the enemy from the walls but one of the dramatic incidents enacted within the town itself, when the townspeople, whose flagging courage had been revived by a strong address from one of the elders, were induced to reject the humiliating terms of peace proposed by Barbarossa and oppose a heroic and ultimately triumphant resistance to the invader. The great canvas contains many life-size figures, all drawn and painted with the skill of an THE PERIOD OF TRANSITION. 329 accomplished technician, the expertness of the artist showing to especial advantage in the modelling and coloring of a semi-nude figure placed precisely in the centre of the foreground. The composition, however, like that of all historical paintings of this period, is purely artificial, suggesting an imposing stage-scene as it would be arranged by one of the clever theatrical managers of our own time. Podesti was regarded in his day as a fresco- painter of exceptional ability, but has left behind him no works in that medium which are now con- sidered as of first-rate merit. Not long after 1831 he was employed by Prince Torlonia to execute some frescos in an octagonal room in his villa out- side the Porta Pia, and the same patron sub- sequently (1835) entrusted to him the decorations in the Hall of Hercules and Lichas and in one of the salons on the upper floor of his palace on the Piazza di Venezia. The subject illustrated by Podesti in the latter room was the Myth of Diana, presented in a multitude of small wall and ceiling compartments, which appear to have been painted off-hand without any previous preparation. The decorations of the barrel vault of the Hall of Her- cules and Lichas are of much more importance and show careful preparation ; but at the same time one finds it impossible to place a very high estimate upon them as works of art owing to the conven- tionality of the composition and the slightly insipid character of the coloring. The subjects introduce 330 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. a number of familiar mythological themes such as the Toilet of Venus, the Judgment of Paris and the Rape of Proserpina. The frescos in the Hall of the Immaculate Conception at the Vatican, which Podesti painted many years later, have done little for his reputation. The coloring is crude, and the scheme of composition adopted in the large pict- ure of the Promulgation of the Dogma, occupying the principal wall, lacks unity of ensemble, the different groups being very imperfectly bound to- gether. Some of the groups of prelates and gentle- men of the papal court, taken by themselves, are of much merit ; and the original cartoons of these groups, of which portions will be found in the National Gallery of Modern Art at Rome, and other portions in the Pinacoteca Podesti at Ancona, constitute really valuable works of art, one’s enjoy- ment of the vigorous and skilful drawing not being marred by the adjunct of disagreeable color. Podesti lived to an advanced age, and like Fran- cesco Hayez continued to work industriously at his art down to the end of his life. Only five years before his death (which occurred at Rome in Feb- ruary, 1895) he accepted a commission to paint the pendentives of the Church of the Sacrament at An- cona, and climbed daily with the agility of a young man up the long ladders, to his staging beneath the dome, until his task was accomplished.^ 1 For a detailed review of Podesti’s career, the reader is referred to the cleverly-written and very entertaining monograph by C. Feroso, THE PERIOD OF TRANSITION. 331 Among the other artists of this period who dis- tinguished themselves in their day may be men- tioned Coghetti at Rome, Mancinelli at Naples, the younger Sabatelli at Florence, Zona and Molmenti at Venice, and Gastaldi at Turin. At the head of the painters at Milan stood Francesco Hayez, whose career has already been reviewed. All of these men were figure-painters, and I might add that, at this time, no other form of art was re- garded as of much importance. Landscape and genre painting were both looked upon as inferior pursuits, and, as a necessary result, no artist devoted himself to their cultivation if he had any chance of succeeding as a figure-painter. One other fact should be mentioned relative to the artists of this period, and that is, that they received very little encour- agement either from the government or from pri- vate patrons. The thirty years between 1830 and i860 were years of continued political agitation in Italy, and were not favorable for the cultivation of the fine arts. Public interest was centred in the struggle for independence, and the work of the painters and sculptors received only grudging at- tention. As a result of this state of affairs, the art-product of the period now under consideration was inferior in volume and in average merit to that of the period which preceded it and of that which followed it. which was published at Ancona in 1884, under the title of Spigolature biografiche di Francesco Podesti.” 332 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. Francesco Coghetti, the first artist mentioned in the above list, was born at Bergamo October 4, 1804, but passed the greater part of his life at Rome. An impression of his style can be formed from the picture of the Expulsion of St. Stephen from the Council, which he painted in 1853, and which occupies the central panel of the left wall of the chapel of St. Stephen in the basilica of St. Paul at Rome, directly opposite the picture by Podesti, representing the martyrdom of the same saint. Clearly Coghetti was a less progressive artist than his colleague, and less inclined to eman- cipate himself, in his religious pictures, from the formalisms of the conventional Roman ecclesias- tical style. One of his smaller paintings, represent- ing the Emperor Charles V deigning to pick up the brushes of Titian, now in the Torlonia Palace, is a more agreeable work, bearing a certain resem- blance in composition to Podesti’s Studio of Ra- phael without showing an equally fine analysis of expression. Coghetti was held in high esteem in his day and ranked as one of the leading painters at Rome. He died April 23, 1875. Giuseppe Mancinelli, who stood at the head of the Neapolitan school prior to the rise of Morelli and Palizzi, was born at Naples in 1813, and at the age of twelve commenced to study at the local Academy of Eine Arts, being protected and en- couraged by the Duke of Ventignano, a nobleman in whose household his father had held some subor- THE PERIOD OF TRANSITION. 333 dinate position. In 1835 he obtained a pension for study at Rome, and for a number of years resided at the Farnese Palace, where the pensioners of the Naples Academy were lodged at the expense of the government. While at Rome he painted a number of works, among which were the Ajax and Cas- sandra (1840) now in the Royal Palace at Naples, and the two companion pictures representing Al- phonso of Aragon giving alms to the poor, and the presentation of S. Francesco di Paola to Ferrante of Aragon (1845), Room XL IX of the gallery at Capodimonte. He also painted during his residence in Rome a St. Philip Neri (1845), for the Duchess of Berry, a Rubens at Whitehall (1845), ^or the Prince of S. Antimo, and a Leda for the Marquis Ala Ponzoni. In 1850 a vacancy occurred in the professorship of drawing at the Naples Academy, and after a competition among the various applicants for the place it was conferred upon Mancinelli, who returned to his native city to assume the duties of his new position, and remained a resident of Naples until his death in 1875. Very few examples of Mancinelli’s work are to be seen in public collections, and those few do not show him at his best. The Ajax and Cassandra at the Royal Palace, a large picture, with life- size figures, is executed in the style of Camuccini, but does not even distantly approach the merit of Camuccini’s work. The two pictures at Capodi- monte are in the style of Podesti’s small historical 334 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. paintings, but are totally lacking in the vividness and naturalness of expression which distinguish the latter’s Studio of Raphael. The Leda, which was originally painted for the Marquis Ala Ponzoni, is, I believe, identical with the picture on that subject in Room XXIV of the Brera Gallery, now attributed to Luigi Mussini. I am assured by members of Mussini’s family that he never painted the picture in question, and it occurs to me as more than possible that this was the Leda which Mancinelli painted for Ala Ponzoni, and that it was included among the works presented by the latter to the Brera. It is a good example of academic tech- nique. Before concluding this brief notice of Man- cinelli I should add that he was a man of admirable personality, beloved by his friends and respected by every one. Giovanni Dupre, who knew him per- sonally, speaks of him as “artista valente, buon marito e buon padre, e maestro coscienzioso e amorevole.” The Florentine school during the middle of the century produced no painter of the highest order of talent. The two sons of Luigi Sabatelli — Fran- cesco, who was born at Florence February 22, 1803, and died in August, 1829, and Giuseppe, who was born at Florence June 24, 1813, and died February 27, 1843 — were regarded fifty years ago as young men of remarkable promise ; but the high estimation in which they were then held was, to a certain extent, due to the precocity of their talent and their premature death. Judging of their ability THE PERIOD OF TRANSITION. 335 by the work which they have actually left behind them, it is impossible to say that they reached a very high level in their art. Francesco Sabatelli was patronized by the Grand Duke Leopold II of Tuscany, who furnished him with the means for pursuing certain studies at Rome and Venice. Almost his first work was done in collaboration with his father between 1822 and 1825, the whole of the lunette representing the combat between Hector and Ajax in the Sala dell’ Iliade at the Pitti Palace being attributed to the younger artist, who could not have been more than twenty-two years old when the fresco was completed. This particu- lar composition was not only his first but his best work. The Ajax in the Academy of Fine Arts at Florence (Room III on the upper floor) is a poor production, — not inaccurate as an example of contour drawing, but defective in modelling, bad in color, and of the most ordinary character so far as the accessories are concerned. Giuseppe Saba- telli is the author of the large canvas represent- ing Farinata degli Uberti attempting to rescue Cece Buondelmonti at the battle of the Serchio, now in the same room at the Academy at Florence, show- ing a group of men and horses in strained attitudes, with conventional expressions of rage and fury. The younger brother felt that his forte lay in the repre- sentation of scenes of violence, where the stronger passions were aroused ; and it must be conceded that he did in fact possess a certain gift for inter- 336 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. preting subjects of that character, but his work regarded in detail is so coarse and conventional that it is almost impossible to admire it. The two Sabatelli painted together two mural panels, in one of the chapels at the left of the choir of the church of S. Croce at Florence, with scenes from the life of St. Anthony. The picture representing St. Anthony raising a dead man to life was commenced by Fran- cesco, but only the cartoon was completed by him, the rest of the work on both pictures being executed by Giuseppe (1833-1836). The composition of these works suggests the style of Benvenuti, but the coloring is more subdued. The chapel is too narrow to make it possible to see the pictures to advantage.^ ^ Eiu'ico Pollastrini^ who is possibly entitled to be considered as one of the leading Florentine painters of this period, was born at Leg- horn June 15, 1817, and died at Florence in 1876. He studied under Bezzuoli at the Academy of Fine Arts at Florence, and painted early in his career two historical pictures which were regarded as works of much promise, their subjects being Columbus at the Convent of Rabida, and the Death of Alessandro de’ Medici. Other works by the same artist are the Raising of the Son of the Widow of Nain (in the church of the Madonna del Soccorso at Leghorn), the Death of Ferruccio, the Sienese Exiles, and an Episode of the Inundation of the Serchio. Pollastrini competed with Luigi Mussini for the position of director of the Academy of Fine Arts at Siena in 1850-1851, but was unsuccessful. He afterward became professor of painting in the Academy at Florence. Antonio Ciseri (born at Ronco d’Ascona in the canton Ticino October 25, 1821, died at Pdorence March 8, 1891) was, like Pollastrini, a pupil of Bezzuoli, and held for many years an honorable place among the painters of Florence. Among his works may be mentioned an altar-piece representing the In- credulity of St. Thomas, painted for the Church of the Saviour at Jerusa- lem, and the large Ecce Homo now in the National Gallery of Modern Art at Rome. Judging from this Ecce Homo, Ciseri was less hampered by his THE PERIOD OF TRANSITION. 337 The two artists who stood at the head of the Venetian school during the period of transition from classicism to naturalism, Pompeo Molmenti and Antonio Zona, both painted in substantially the same style, to judge from the large historical pictures upon which their reputation principally rests. Mol- menti was born in 1819 at Motta, one of the towns of the Venetian teri^a firma situated on the river Livenza, and served his art-apprenticeship at the Venice Academy. His most famous work is the large painting, now or until recently owned by the Giovanelli family, representing the arrest of Filippo Calendario, a Venetian artist who was executed in 1354 for complicity in the conspiracy of Marin Falieri. The picture is painted in a dignified, highly-finished style, suggesting the best work of the great historical schools. Zona was born in 1813 at Mira, a small town on the Brenta, ten miles west of Venice, and like Molmenti studied art at the Venice Academy. His most important histori- cal painting (now belonging to the Academy at Venice) represents Paul Veronese showing his drawings to Titian, the scene being represented as taking place on the Ponte della Paglia. The grouping of the figures is somewdiat more artifi- cial than in Molmenti s Arrest of Calendario, but in other respects the style of the two works is much early training than most of the artists of his generation. The picture in question is not equal to the work of Barabino or Maccai'i, but it is a far more modern production than one would expect to see from the brush of an artist born in 1821. 338 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. the same. Zona did not devote himself exclusively to historical painting, but produced a number of figure-compositions of less ambitious character, of which there are two examples in the Gallery of Modern Art at Turin, entitled the Dirge (1862) and Contemplation (1865). He also enjoyed at one time considerable popularity as a portrait-painter, and as late as 1880 was commissioned to paint a portrait of King Humbert for the Chamber of Deputies at Rome. In his last years his popularity declined, although he made a heroic effort to maintain his hold upon the public favor, exhibiting seven of his pictures at Milan in 1886, when he was in his seventy-fourth year. He died at Rome in February, 1892, leaving an unfinished canvas upon his easel. The leading figure-painter at Turin during this period was Andrea Gastaldi, who, to judge from the work which he has left behind him, should have de- voted himself to sculpture rather than to painting, so clever was his drawing and so deficient his sense of color. Gastaldi was born at Turin April 16, 1826, and pursued part of his preparatory studies at Rome. He also visited Paris and learned some- thine: of the work of the sfreat French masters of his own time from actual observation of their pict- ures ; but all these opportunities for perfecting his talent could not graft upon his nature qualities which were not inherent in it. At the exhibition of his works arranged at Turin after his death THE PERIOD OF TRANSITION. 339 (which occurred January 9, 1889), the really remark- able element in his talent detached itself at a glance as one surveyed the canvases covering the walls. Gastaldi had a keen appreciation of the value of contour and of the beauty which may reside simply in the attitude of a figure. His nudes were ingen- iously posed and beautifully drawn. But the nicer refinements which the clever painter is able to add after the details of pose are determined were almost entirely lacking, the coloring being frequently inhar- monious and the rendering of textures and surfaces invariably the same, whether it purported to imitate wood, marble, woven fabrics, or the human flesh. Gastaldi produced quite a large number of works, and several of his canvases may now be seen in the Gallery of Modern Art at Turin. There is also one of his pictures, representing Pope Boniface VIII, in the National Gallery at Rome. It is proper, perhaps, to add a word here, in this same connection, as to Massimo D’Azeglio (1798- 1866), who was also a native of Turin, although much of his life was passed in other Italian cities. D’Azeglio studied art as a young man under Martin \Trstappen at Rome, devoted himself to historic landscape, and produced a long list of works, no less than one hundred and seventv havino: been brought together in the posthumous exhibition ar- ranged at Turin in 1866. Quite a number of his landscapes are now in the municipal gallery at the latter city, and other examples of his work are fre- 340 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. quently encountered in public and private collec- tions. It is almost needless to observe that these landscapes show no direct study of nature ; natural- ism had not, when D’Azeglio learned his art, made its appearance as a principle of esthetics, and the young painter necessarily conformed to the art- ideas which governed the men of his time. All of his work is executed in the same style, as can be seen by comparing the Death of Montmorency, painted in 1825, with the Ulysses and Nausicaa, painted in 1866, which hang at present in the same room (Sala II) of the Turin Gallery. The land- scape-painters of D’Azeglio’s time did not hesitate to place a palm-tree beside a glacier, and to paint a horse and his rider upon an inaccessible shelf on the face of a precipice, if the idea which they wished to express seemed to them to call for the introduc- tion of these features ; and the particular artist of whom I am speaking was as daring as any of his confreres. Even while one finds it difficult to sup- press an exclamation of amazement at the utter im- probability of some of the situations created by the landscapists of this school, one cannot help admir- ing and being entertained by their audacity. As to Massimo D’Azeglio himself one ought to say, by way of placating the critics who insist upon taking his productions too seriously, that his work as an artist is after all the least of his titles to our admira- tion and respect. As a writer he did far better work than as a painter, as a statesman he rendered THE PERIOD OF TRANSITION. 341 tactful services in critical situations, and as a man he won the regard and affection of every one with whom he came in contact. He was, personally, one of the most amiable and most widely popular of any of the public men of his time. Manzoni once said of him that he was ne seduisa7it, and this saying of the great writer cleverly summed up the general judgment and told the secret of his success in life in two words. CHAPTER XII. THE LEADERS OF THE MODERN NEAPOLITAN SCHOOL. Origin and character of the naturalistic movement in Italian art. — Reason for using the term ‘‘ naturalism ” in preference to the term “realism.” — The contest between the liberal and conservative parties at Naples. — The champions of the liberal cause. — Do 7 ?ie 7 iico and the character of his talent. — His interest in romantic literature and early tendency toward romantic subjects. — Momentary deflection toward purism in 1847-1848. — The young painter visits Paris and discusses the subject of Italian art with Paul Delaroche. — Question as to the influence exerted on Morelli’s style by his contact with the art of northern Europe. — Pictures painted after his return. — Defeat of the conservative party in art at Naples. — The princi- ples of naturalism as taught and practised by Morelli. — Pictures illustrating the application of these principles. — Morelli’s progress toward the primacy among Italian painters. — His remarkable talent as a colorist. — His skill as a portrait-painter. — His design for the decoration of the facade of the Museo Artistico Industriale at Naples. — Filippo Palizzi. — Peculiarities of his talent. — His early studies. — Outline of his career. — His friendship for Morelli and association with the latter in the leadership of the modern Neapolitan school. — Collection of his studies in the National Gallery at Rome. — Palizzi’s talent compared with that of Landseer and Rosa Bonheur. It would be difficult to say precisely when the movement termed “naturalism” originated in Italian art, inasmuch as it was potentially in existence prior to 1820 and therefore before the classic movement had wholly spent its force. I find the first signs of change in the work of the sculptor Lorenzo Bartolini, 342 THE MODERN NEAPOLITAN SCHOOL. 343 and the first open declaration of the new faith in the teachings of that master. Bartolini insisted that the classic type of the human form should be aban- doned and that the direct study of nature should be substituted for the study of Greek statues. In the art of painting the first hesitant step toward natural- ism was taken by the romanticists and some of the more advanced purists prior to 1830. Both of these art-groups professed to reject what they regarded as the exaggerated conventionality and artificiality of classic painting in favor of a form of art which should be closer to human sympathies in its subjects and closer to nature in its method of interpreting them. This change of direction, although the first step was a timid and tentative one and was taken without any distinct realization of what it would finally lead to, seems to have been all that was needed to ultimately alter the whole course of Italian art. When the position was once taken that the work of the painters and sculptors of the first quarter of the century was bad because it was unnatural, the inevitable conclusion was that to be deserving of praise works of art must be brought into closer correspondence with nature ; and by a logical course of development artists and theorists finally reached the point of proclaiming that nature and nature alone was the guide to follow, and natu- ralness the only test of the merit of an artistic production. It is, perhaps, of no importance to attempt to 344 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. enforce a distinction between naturalism and real- ism ; and having regard solely to the derivative meaning of the two words, I do not know that any exists. It seems preferable, however, to use the term “ naturalism ” in speaking of the art-movement which tended toward a closer imitation of nature, because the other word has come to be associated by usage with a form of art which deals almost exclusively with what is brutal, ugly, and repulsive. When artists assume to take nature as their guide and to paint or model what they see, it is clear that the adoption of this principle does not compel them to paint or model what is painful and offensive; and the Italian artists of our own time who have been governed in their work by the principles which have been generally dominant since i860 have not, as a rule, descended to any such low level. They are therefore not realists, in the sense in which that term is generally used, and there will be less danger of the character of their work being misunderstood if I speak of them as naturalists, and of the move- ment with which they are associated as naturalism. The substitution of a fresh set of ideas for the exhausted ideas of the purists and the romanticists was effected in northern and central Italy somewhat gradually, and without any sharp, open, and decisive conflict between the champions of the old and the new schools. In southern Italy events took a dif- ferent course ; the struggle between the old men and the new men was a passionate struggle; it THE MODERN NEAPOLITAN SCHOOL. 345 developed into a bitter war between the two parties, and neither side laid down its arms until the com- plete triumph of the naturalists compelled the cham- pions of the older faith to abandon the field. The explanation of the different aspect which the course of events thus assumed is to be sought in the marked difference of temperament between the Italians of the northern part of the peninsula and those of the southern part. The Neapolitans impress one at times as being almost a different race from the Romans, Tuscans, and Lombards; they are irritable, fiery, impetuous ; they can do nothing by halves ; if a battle is to be fought, it must be fought openly and fought to the death. The conflict between the two art-groups had broken out at Naples as early as 1850; the partisans on each side continued after that to openly antagonize each other in every possi- ble way ; and there was no peace, or even the out- ward aspect of peace, until, with the fall of the Bourbon government in i860, the conservative party lost their official support and it became possible for the liberals to obtain possession of the Neapolitan Academy of Fine Arts and to place their champions in the vacant chairs of the conservative professors. At the fore-front of the liberal Neapolitan move- ment stood Domenico Morelli and Filippo Palizzi, two men whose names are undoubtedly better known throughout Italy than those of any other two modern Italian painters. Although associated together as leaders of the naturalists, the two men were very 346 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. different in temperament and were in entire unity in nothing except their implacable hostility to the conservatives. Morelli, who by virtue of his superior spiritual endowment is to be regarded as the greater of the two men, is one of those artists whom it is ex- tremely difficult to class because the unique quality of his work depends not so much upon any uni- formity in its external aspect as upon a certain con- tinuous principle underlying its production. His early work is not like his late work, and measured by purely external standards it cannot be said to belong, as a whole, exclusively to any one style. The permanent quality in his production is a sub- jective quality — the intense determination to ad- vance, to absorb and apply new ideas, and never for a moment to remain stationary. The only wholly appropriate term which can be applied to him is to characterize him as a progressist — to borrow a word from the dialect of politics. He belongs to the group of men who, by certain qualities inherent in their nature, feel an irresistible repugnance to the routine application of exhausted ideas and rebel at every point against being bound down by formula. Morelli was born at Naples in 1826. He became a pupil of the Academy of Fine Arts about 1840, having previously pursued some rather desultory studies under a private teacher. He developed an almost unconquerable repugnance for the system of technique taught at the Academy, but compelled himself to learn it because his means were extremely THE MODERN NEAPOLITAN SCHOOL. 347 limited, and the prizes awarded to the pupils in the school competitions furnished him an opportunity for increasing his income which he could not afford to neglect. Two of Morelli’s prize compositions hang at present in one of the rooms (Sala VII) of the gallery at Capodimonte, and if they offer evidence of nothing else, they at least furnish proof that he succeeded in what he attempted and mastered the method of painting taught by the Academy. Both of the pictures represent Christian martyrs, and the lower one of the two, as they are at present arranged on the wall, is artificial in composition and not a particularly pleasing work. The upper one, however, which represents the bodies of martyrs borne to heaven by angels, is very graceful in composition and pleasing in coloring. Prior to the commencement of his studies at the Academy Morelli had become interested in the literature of the romantic movement through the reading of Manzoni’s Pro^nessi Sposi, a copy of which had been placed in his hands by a friendly priest. He became even more profoundly in- terested in romantic literature in reading later the poems of Byron, which made an unusually powerful appeal to his sensitive nature. Morelli retained his interest in romanticism for many years, but his abiding fondness for it consisted only in his liking for the subjects which it afforded him ; and the fact that he continued to paint pictures upon 348 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. romantic themes clown to 1868 must not be taken as indicating that he adhered for that length of time to the outward methods of representation which we associate with romanticism. The out- ward envelope of his art was at no time wholly controlled by the principles which usually governed the technique of the romantic painters; it was the inner spirit, only, which continued to possess a fascination for him, and which led him to adhere to romantic subjects after other artists had aban- doned them. His first important romantic picture, painted between 1845 and 1847, subsequently disappeared from view, and the artist himself does not know what became of it. The subject was taken from Byron’s Corsair, and the incident represented was the parting between the hero and heroine of the poem. At the time that the work was painted romantic subjects were not favored by the Academy, and when the picture was offered for the annual academic exhibition of 1847, was placed in a side room, and afterward thrown by an angry professor from the window into the courtyard. Just at this point in his career Morelli exhibited an episodic tendency toward purism. His harsh treatment by the Academy had wounded his sensitive nature so deeply that he resolved to leave Naples for a while, and see whether he could not find more congenial and stimulating surroundings at Rome. Once arrived at Rome, he found himself in the atmos- THE MODERN NEAPOLITAN SCHOOL. 349 phere of religious art, and set himself to work painting a picture representing the Madonna bend- ing over the cradle of the Child, with St. John by her side. Morelli had some acquaintance at this time with Overbeck, and the latter occasionally assisted him by correcting his drawings. The painting, when completed, was exhibited at Rome with much success, and found its way afterward to a private chapel in a villa near Gaeta, where it still remains. It is described with much detail by Pasquale Villari in a small pamphlet published at Naples in 1848, which is said to be Professor Villari’s first literary work. Judging from the de- scription which he gives, the picture was painted in exact conformity with the principles which governed the Florentine painters of the last part of the fifteenth century. It also appears, from Professor Villari’s description, that the illusion of antiquity was increased by placing the canvas in a quattrocento frame and covering it with a curtain. With the exception of this one work I know of no instance in which Morelli showed by any overt act his sympathy with the ideas and aspirations of the purists. Returning to Naples in the spring of 1848, he took up again his favorite romantic sub- jects, and in 1850 succeeded in overcoming the hostile prejudices of the Academy, and in winning a pension entitling him to five or six years’ study at Rome, by exhibiting a painting upon .a theme taken from Tasso’s Jerusalem Delivered. Upon 350 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. the strength of this success he very soon married, his bride being the sister of Professor Villari, and the next five years were among the happiest and most tranquil of his life. The entire term of his pension was passed at Naples, because the Neapoli- tan government, after the outbreak of liberalism and republicanism at Rome in 1848 and 1849, had refused to allow Neapolitan subjects to reside in the latter city. In 1855 Morelli painted and ex- hibited at Naples a picture which speedily became famous, entitled The Iconoclasts, and very shortly afterward made his first journey abroad. The Iconoclasts, although it has the appearance of a highly finished work, is said to have been painted in forty days. The artist chose as his subject a fanatic who has broken into a sanctuary and is trampling on a picture which he has torn from the hands of a painter, dressed in the habit of a friar. He undoubtedly intended by the friar to portray himself and his associates in the liberal movement in Italian art, and by the fanatic to represent the opposition to the ideas of the new school. The canvas shows little or no trace of purism or classi- cism, and, despite the artificiality of the composition, the accurate drawing of the faces and figures indi- cates a marked advance toward the literal interpre- tation of nature. Morelli would almost necessarily by this time (1855) have commenced to study the human figure more closely than he had ever studied it before. His tendency must, from the first, have THE MODERN NEAPOLITAN SCHOOL. 35 been in that direction; but while he was suffering from the poverty which made it impossible for him to hire models, and which had compelled him, while in Rome, to go about drawing hands, arms, and draperies from the pictures in the churches and ofalleries wherever he could find fissures with the proper pose, he was naturally unable to freely follow his own inclinations. Now, however, he could command the luxury of that very necessary assistance to correct work, a living model, and could impress upon his pictures the accuracy which this assistance enabled him to give them. The Iconoclasts was purchased by the government and is now in the royal collection at Capodimonte. Upon setting out on his journey abroad Morelli first directed his steps toward Germany where he visited the galleries and studied the methods of art- instruction in the principal cities. From Germany he made his way to Brussels and then to Paris, where the international exposition of 1855 was at that time in progress. The sensitive young Neapolitan, en- dowed with as keen a sense as any man ever had of what was progress and what was dull, heavy inertia, was compelled to blush at the Italian work which he saw on the walls of the exposition galleries. He was reproached by Delaroche with the backw^ard- ness of the art of the peninsula, and in face of this reproach was in duty bound to defend it, to insist that what was charged against it was not true, that the representation at Paris was not a fair one, that 352 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. “ the young men were not there.” But he undoubt- edly felt, quite as keenly as Delaroche himself, the excessive conservatism of the Italians and their in- ability, — as a whole, — at that time to sustain a favorable comparison with the artists of Germany and France. One may say here that if the situa- tion is different, and it certainly is very different, now, the change is in large measure due to the in- fluence of Morelli himself. His intense admiration for progress in every direction was made evident as early as 1855 by his avowed fondness for the work of Meissonier, an artist who was like Morelli in nothing except in his insistence upon escaping from the travelled path and striking out upon a newer and fresher course. An examination of the work produced by Morelli in the years immediately following his journey abroad fails to indicate that this pilgrimage exerted any very material effect upon his style. Before 1855 he had chosen the themes of his pictures partly from romance and partly from religious his- tory, and he still continued to do so. And both before and after 1855 he continued to carry along, hand in hand, two different methods of painting, a peculiarity of his work to which I have not yet alluded. He had his broadly suggestive method, in which he did not descend to detail ; and his finished method, in which all the minuticC were carefully rendered and nothing left to the imagina- tion. The Iconoclasts belonged to his finished THE MODERN NEAPOLITAN SCHOOL. 353 method, and so did the Florentine Serenade, which he painted during a residence of nine months at Florence between 1857 and i860; and so also did the Pompeian Bath, which he painted at Milan dur- ing a residence of many months in that city in i860 and 1861, — at which time he became ac- quainted with Domenico Induno, Giuseppe Bertini, Eleuterio Pagliano, and other painters of the younger Milanese school. While at work upon these highly finished pictures he was also trying his hand at those less detailed and more suggestive composi- tions which seem to us now more distinctly Morel- lian, and which were doubtless, from the first, closer to his sympathies. There is the early painting called the Nun of Monza, which tells its story in a vigorous manner with very few lines and practi- cally no detail. There are the later studies, exe- cuted between 1855 and i860, for the decoration of the church of S. Francesco at Gaeta, which are equally broad and equally powerful. And there is the still later picture called Count Lara and his Page, painted at Milan during the painters resi- dence there in 1 860-1 861, where the powerful sug- gestiveness is the chief charm of the work. This last work as well as the other canvas painted at Milan (the Pompeian Bath) were purchased by the painter’s friend, Giovanni Von wilier, and still hang in the latter’s palace at Naples. The Count Lara is as beautiful in color as it is charming in the interpretation of the subject, and is one 354 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. of the very choicest works in the Von wilier col- lection. That Morelli was at this time constantly tending toward a closer study of nature is shown by his great picture representing Tasso reading his poems to the three Eleanoras, which is stated by the Cavaliere Francesco Netti to have been first shown to the public at the third exposition of the Neapoli- tan society for the promotion of the fine arts, held in 1865. It contains four life-size figures, and the whole work is painted with the most scrupulous nicety and with the very closest study of the living model. The artist endeavored to render certain very subtle effects of expression, meaning to make clear to the observer that the affection which each of the Eleanoras believed to be bestowed upon her alone was reserved to Eleanora D’Este, who faces the poet, seated in an arm-chair and leaning back upon a pillow. Of the other two ladies, the one nearest the poet fixes her eyes upon him in order to avoid meeting the glance of her rivals, and the third is supposed to be divining the emotions of the other two. Such, at least, is the interpretation placed upon the picture by Professor Villari, who doubtless was informed as to its precise meaning by Morelli himself. Not only were the faces in this picture carefully studied, but so also were all the ac- cessories. In 1867 the painting was sent to the universal exposition at Paris, accompanied by the two smaller canvases painted at Milan in i860- THE MODERN NEAPOLITAN SCHOOL. 355 1 86 1, and on the strength of this exhibit Morelli was awarded a first-class medal, a recompense which was not to be despised, although, in view of what he potentially then was and afterward actually be- came, it seems like an inadequate recognition of his ability. The Tasso became the property of the Commendatore Vonwiller and hung in his drawing- room until 1893, when it was presented by its owner to the King and Queen on the occasion of the twenty-fifth anniversary of their marriage. Before the date of the international exposition of 1867 the revolution in Italian art, which it was the mission of Morelli and some of his associates at Naples to bring about, had been virtually accom- plished. At the time of the reorganization of the government of the southern provinces, after the expulsion of the Bourbons from Naples in i860, the regular academic expositions had been sup- pressed, and the liberal society for the promotion of the fine arts, called the Societa Promotrice, had been organized and had begun to hold its exhibi- tions. The revolution may be said to have been wholly complete in 1868, the date at which Morelli accepted a professorship in the reorganized Acad- emy of Fine Arts. The cardinal principle advo- cated by the naturalists, now in power, was a closer study of nature ; and Morelli illustrated, by his own methods of work, how these studies should be con- ducted. In order to infuse more vitality into his drawing of the human figure, he ceased to rely ex- 356 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. clusively upon the studies made from a model posed in the studio, and undertook to make a col- lection of what we might call short-hand notes of figures in different positions, studied from models who were unconscious of being observed. His portfolio now contains a mass of drawings of this description, representing the accumulation of years. His subjects were found in the streets and squares of Naples, and the sketches bear internal evidence of the most rapid and hurried execution in the long slashes of the pencil or crayon and the overlaying of different lines without erasures. The classic masters of the first twenty years of the century, who have left volumes of drawings so nicely finished as to bear engraving just as they stand, would have been horror-struck at a mere glance into Morelli’s portfolio. What the modern master endeavored to catch from his unconscious model was the essential and characteristic feature of a natural pose before the attitude should be changed. Finish was noth- ing to him ; all that he aimed to secure was an element of truth which no artificially posed model could give him. While perfecting himself in drawing, Morelli was also endeavoring to perfect himself in light and shade, being especially anxious to learn to interpret correctly the effect of strong southern sunlight for the sake of giving the utmost possible reality to the representations of Biblical subjects which he began to paint about 1867 and which he has con- THE MODERN NEAPOLITAN SCHOOL. 357 tinued to prefer, before all other subjects, since that date. For some reason, the explanation of which is to be sought in certain peculiarities of his temperament, the artist has never thought it worth while to make a journey to Palestine, but he has made a close study of the effects of out-of-door light and color in southern Italy, where he declares that he finds the same vegetation and the same climatic conditions as in Syria. One of the earliest pictures painted by Morelli in his modern manner, and at the same time one of the richest in suggestiveness of the whole series of his works, is the painting called The Embalming of the Body of Christ, which dates from the year 1868 and is now in the Vonwiller collection. The picture is so advanced in character and so wholly in harmony with its author’s latest ideas that it is hard to believe that it could have been produced at the date assigned to it. The study of light and shade is masterly ; the figures surrounding the shrouded body extended at full length at the foot of the cross are only dimly seen by the illumination which comes from a candle held by one of the figures in the foreground and from the moon which is just appearing above the edge of the hill. The color- ing is perfectly adapted to the conditions of light and shade, being principally in tones of brown and white from which the various normal hues, as they would appear by daylight, barely emerge in faint suggestiveness. This is one of the instances in 358 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. which an artist has appreciated and successfully rendered the soul of the scene while hardly occu- pying himself at all with its outer envelope. Of Morelli’s Madonnas the most admired is probably the one entitled The Madonna of the Golden Stair, representing the Virgin descending the jewelled stair of the Temple with the Child in her arms. The first version of this work is owned by Professor Villari and is now in his house at Florence. A second version, painted for Goupil, is now in the possession of a Russian gentleman. The picture presents several characteristic features of its author’s style, one of them being the peculiar shape of the panel — a shape which is rendered natural and appropriate by the manner in which the figures are grouped, but which was nevertheless deliberately chosen by the painter for the purpose of escaping from the conventional. Another char- acteristic feature is the strong light in which the figures are placed, nearly effacing all the shadows, and putting the work in the most marked contrast with the studio-lighted compositions of his pred- ecessors, and with his own earlier productions. The face of the Madonna, which conforms to the Hebrew type, might also be mentioned as an illus- tration of the author’s complete break with Italian tradition, — the old masters, and, in general, the modern ones, being quite content to take the models for their Madonnas from among the people of their own race. A trait which, however, sepa- MADONNA OF THE GOLDEN STAIR FROM THE PAINTING BY MORELLI 'i jy \ . ■■■ ■,>S Jy » * ■ I 1 THE MODERN NEAPOLITAN SCHOOL. 359 rates Morelli more completely from the rank and file of painters than any other to be noticed in this picture, is his insistence upon impressing upon it a profound spiritual significance without seeming to do so. This inner meaning is suggested by the position of the arms of the Child, foreshadowing the tragedy of the cross. Morelli differs from his contempo- raries in being more spiritual than any of them. He lives in the midst of naturalists, that is to say of artists who profess to take nature as their guide in all details of their work, and is himself recog- nized as a leader among them. But his spiritual nature is so much stronger than his physical nature that he cannot force himself to beconie merely a copyist of what he sees. He feels an irresistible impulse to impress upon scenes, apparently com- monplace, some significance beyond what is obvious upon their surface ; and this tendency has exhibited itself in a marked degree in the Madonna of the Golden Stair. By way of recapitulation, let me allude again at this point to the different failures and successes of Morelli in his long career, as showing the gradual development of his personality and the growth of his influence. In 1841, at the age of fifteen, he had made himself conspicuous among the pupils of the Academy by his refusal to obey the academic rules, and by his opposition to the methods of instruction which then prevailed. In 1849 failed in his first effort at winning the Roman pension, but in 1850 36o history of modern ITALIAN ART. he was successful, and in 1855, after availing him- self of the opportunities for tranquil study which his pension afforded, he painted the large picture of the Iconoclasts, which the progressive group of artists at Naples hailed as a masterpiece. A few years later he changed his residence temporarily to Florence and began, by the force of his powerful example, to exert a direct influence on the development of art at other Italian centres. This influence was further extended by a residence of several months at Milan in 1 860- 1 86 1, when he was brought into more or less intimate relations with all the prominent Mil- anese artists of the day. Returning to Naples, he became one of the leaders in organizing the radical society of artists called the Societa Promotrice, an institution which was speedily imitated in all the principal Italian cities for the purpose of dissemi- nating liberal ideas in art. In 1868 he became pro- fessor at the official Neapolitan art school, and his personal reputation drew to that institution, dur- ing the thirteen years while he continued to retain his chair, all the most promising young men from the southern provinces, besides a considerable num- ber of pupils from other Italian cities which had official schools of their own — some of these un- expected recruits coming to him from places as distant as Ferrara, Leghorn, and Turin. And it should be added that not only young painters came to him for instruction, but young sculptors as well, and that the fervor of some of his pupils amounted THE MODERN NEAPOLITAN SCHOOL. 361 almost to fanaticism. In 1880 the official jury at the national exhibition held at Turin conferred upon him a diploma in which he was recognized as the foremost artist of Italy. Finally, in 1886, he received the highest civil honor which could be conferred upon him by the government, in being made a senator of the Italian kingdom ; an honor which, it is true, is political in its character, but which was bestowed upon him simply because of his preeminence in art. Hardly enough has been said, up to this point, of Morelli s remarkable gift as a colorist, which some of his admirers consider by far the most exceptional element in his artistic endowment. Some of his canvases, especially some of his more recent ones, present harmonies of soft, delicate hues which are unrivalled by the color-work of any other Italian artist of this century. One of the most favorable illustrations of his skill in this particular is his picture of Mahomet praying before his army, of which two versions exist, one of them being in the Civic Museum at Trieste, and the other in the Tasca collection at Palermo. The composition is very simple : Mahomet stands alone in the midst of the desert, with his face uplifted in prayer, while his followers kneel behind him, some of them on their rugs, others apparently on the sand, and bow their faces to the ground. The costumes and the rugs introduce a variety of brilliant hues, but the con- trasting colors are all strongly charged with yel- 362 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. lowish white, and produce a perfectly harmonious effect. The only other • tints introduced in the picture are the pale yellow of the sand and the pale blue of the sky. Only a very vague impression of the beauty of such a work as this can be con- veyed by words, and none at all by a photograph. The values of the different colors, measured in the scale of light and shade, are so nearly equal that in any black and white reproduction the contrasts necessary to the definition of form largely disap- pear and the whole composition becomes blurred, vague, and indistinct. Some idea of Morelli’s skill in rendering effects of out-of-door light can be formed from the picture representing Christ after the Temptation, which was purchased by the government in 1895, and now hangs in the National Gallery of Modern Art at Rome. In subject this work is not so wholly pleasing as some of its author’s other interpreta- tions of Biblical scenes, but as a study of light and shade it is of much interest, and it also furnishes, incidentally, an illustration of the purely unconven- tional character of his treatment of religious sub- jects. The scheme of composition introduces three figures, that of the Saviour, who is seated upon a barren hill-top, without a tree in sight or any sign of vegetation except a few tufts of sunburnt herbage in the foregrounjJ, and those of two angels, who float toward him bearing fruit and water, and who are intended, by the soft, fresh colors introduced in THE MODERN NEAPOLITAN SCHOOL. 363 their draperies and in the trailing vines which sweep across their garments, to symbolize the re- turn of exuberant life into a scene which has been surcharged with the spirit of desolation. In its first state this picture introduced, also, a portion of the figure of Satan as he shrank out of sight into the earth, but Morelli, after much meditation upon the subject, was brought to realize that to nine- teenth century minds any physical embodiment of the principle of evil could only form a subject for satire, and he wisely erased it from his picture. The noticeable feature in the interpretation of light and shade is the sustained luminous tone of the whole picture. Hardly a shadow is visible ex- cept that projected on the yellow soil by the floating figures of the angels. Such results as this may ap- pear, to the inexpert, to be easy to achieve ; but as a matter of fact they are only to be arrived at after years of patient study. I have said nothing thus far of the portraits which Morelli has painted, but they are by no means to be regarded as an unimportant part of his production. The number of them is not very large, but almost all of them have some merit apart from their mere value as likenesses. Professor Villari possesses a fine portrait of Morelli himself, painted when he was in the prime of life and before his luxuriant black hair and beard had begun to be streaked with gray. The magnificent head, with eyes of the 364 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. deepest black under heavy black eyebrows and an expression of great virility, strength, force, and earnestness, is backgrounded against an even ex- panse of light orange-yellow which seems precisely the tone required to bring both the character and the coloring of the face into the strongest relief. The companion picture to this portrait of Morelli is a likeness of Professor Villari himself, an interesting work, but not one which does the fullest justice either to the artist or his sub- ject. Subsequent to the date of these two portraits, Morelli painted a likeness of the statesman, Quin- tino Sella, which is now in the Gallery of Modern Art at Turin and consequently in a place where it can be seen by any one who makes the round of the principal Italian cities and who cares to form an im- pression of Morelli s powers as a portrait-painter. I regard the work as of rather exceptional importance because it not only shows the artist’s individual tal- ent, but furnishes a favorable illustration of the prin- ciples of naturalistic art as applied to portraiture. Morelli conceived the idea of representing his sub- ject as standing at the ministerial bench in the sen- ate at Rome. The conditions which this conception imposed upon him were apparently unfavorable for anything aesthetically pleasing in the result. The senate is upholstered in blue, and the ministerial bench usually offers only such inartistic accessories as a tumbled mass of papers and portfolios, inter- THE MODERN NEAPOLITAN SCHOOL. 365 spersed with a book or two, and punctuated with the buttons of electric bells. Out of these un- promising materials Morelli succeeded, however, in making a very clever picture. He selected blue as the dominant color-note, and kept his harmony per- fect by admitting only black and white as the other two tones. The admission of black and white let in the mass of papers, the porcelain bell-button and the statesman’s shirt-front; the black and white to- gether permitted a correct rendering of his clothes and his gray hair and beard ; and when the work was completed it proved to be almost as pleasing in effect, regarded as a study of color, as Gainsbor- ough’s Blue Boy. It is interesting to compare this work, where it now hangs, with Gordigiani’s por- trait of Cavour in the same gallery. In the lat- ter all the old-time expedients for giving pictorial value to a portrait were freely introduced, and yet the effect is not only inferior in truthfulness but in- ferior in artistic merit to Morelli’s perfectly literal representation of Quintino Sella. Morelli has occasionally undertaken large decora- tive works, such, for example, as the mosaic-coating of the fagade of the cathedral at Amalh, completed about 1890, and the majolica loggia and superstruct- ure ornamenting the front of the Museo Artistico Industrial at Naples, which is not yet quite fin- ished. In both of these cfreat undertakino-s lie o o was assisted by his pupils, his principal collabo- rator in the work at Amalfi having been the Sicilian 366 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. painter, Paolo Vetri,^ who seems to have almost perfectly assimilated his master’s style. The im- portant experiment in decoration undertaken at the Museo Artistico Industriale required the modelling and coloring of hundreds of different fragments of majolica, which have all been fitted together so as to repeat on a colossal scale the small color-design prepared by Morelli at the beginning of the work. The building which they decorate is used as an industrial school where poor young men are taught all the various branches of decorative art, and the majolica faqade was projected by Morelli for the purpose of showing what could be accom- plished in this form of decoration and exhibiting at the same time the expertness of the pupils of the institution. Unfortunately the school is situated in an out-of-the-way quarter of the city, on the so- called Monte di Dio, where the new faqade is not likely to be seen except by those who make a pilgrimage to the spot for the express purpose of examinino: it. 1 Vetri completed in 1891 some frescos in one of the rooms of the Library, installed in the same building as the National Museum at Naples, which are of much merit, especially the allegorical figures on the vaulting. The Library can be reached from the entrance near the eastern end of the facade of the Museum, and this particular room, which was entirely refitted and provided with carved bookcases of consistent design in 1890-1891, is well worthy of inspection as an ex- ample of modern interior decoration. The frescos on the ceiling strongly resemble the work of Morelli in coloring, in the absence of sharp, decided contours, and in the delicacy of the effects of light and shade. Vetri is a son-in-law of Morelli, and has been more closely associated with the master than any other pupil. THE MODERN NEAPOLITAN SCHOOL. 367 The greatest among Morelli s contemporaries at Naples, while he was gradually working his way to the front rank among the artists of southern Italy, was Filippo Palizzi, a painter who differed from his great colleague in many respects and who was like him in only one thing, — in dissenting from the methods which he found in use among the artists around him and in aspiring to introduce some new ideas into the minds of the men who, like himself, were engaged in artistic pursuits. Palizzi had much in common with a distinguished Italian artist of an earlier generation, Lorenzo Bartolini, and still more in common with one of his own contempora- ries, Vincenzo Vela. It is true that his subjects were of a humbler sort ; he confined himself al- most entirely to the painting of animals, and real- ized his inability to deal satisfactorily with the human figure ; but he sympathized with both of the distinguished sculptors whom I have named in their insistence upon copying nature as it was, without attempting to make it more beautiful by any process of idealization. The creative element in Palizzis artistic endowment was never very strong. Morelli studied the processes of natural- istic art for the purpose of making the expression of his inner visions more strikingly real. His more simple-minded colleague liad few visions to express and was usually quite content to limit him- self to the simple function of a copyist, reproducing natural objects precisely as he found them. 368 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. Palizzi was a native of the provinces of the Abruzzi and therefore belongs territorially to the same division of the Italian race as Francesco Paolo Michetti and Dante Gabriel Rossetti. He was even born in the same town as Dante Gabriel’s father, the town of Vasto, and must therefore have passed his childhood in the midst of much the same surroundings as the elder Rossetti. Arrived at the age of fourteen (he was born June i6, i8i8) Palizzi abandoned Vasto and directed his steps toward Naples, following his elder brother,^ also a painter, who had preceded him and who encouraged him in his ambitions. At Naples he became the pupil of the historical painter Bonolis and remained with him long enough to acquire some knowledge of the drawing of the figure, though as I have already said he never became expert in that branch of his art. In 1839, or about that date, we find him already at work on his chosen specialty of animal-painting, as is evidenced by the fact of his having obtained a prize, at an academic exhibition, for a study of cattle from life, but his frank adoption of his true vocation evidently brought him few patrons and 1 Palizzi was one of nine children all of whom with a single excep- tion exhibited a talent for art. Three of the children were girls and acquired some local reputation as flower-painters. The eldest son, Giuseppe, born in 1812, studied at the Naples Academy and migrated about 1844 to Paris, where he entered the studio of Troy on and subse- quently distinguished himself as an animal-painter, dying in 1889. Two other brothers, Nicola who died in 1870 and Francesco who died in 1871, also studied and worked at Paris, the former devoting himself to landscape and the latter to genre-painting. THE MODERN NEAPOLITAN SCHOOL. 369 little substantial encouragement. Three years later (1842) he even became discouraged to the point of abandoning Naples and emigrating to Moldavia, in the suite of a certain Prince Maronsi ; but in that remote region his fortunes refused to retrieve themselves, and after a sojourn of less than a year we find him back again in Naples, the city which was destined to be thenceforth the scene of his permanent residence. Prior to his alliance with Morelli, Palizzi lived a rather obscure life in association with a group of artists established in poor quarters in the western suburb of Naples who were ironically termed the School of Posillipo. The School of Posillipo painted views of Naples and its environs as their principal occupation, and sold them to foreigners as sou- venirs of the city. Palizzi may also have turned his hand to landscape-painting as a means of sup- port, but he continued at the same time to produce studies of animals from life, and found some purchasers among the English, Russians, and Americans who frequented the Neapolitan hotels, for these more characteristic products of his talent. It was about 1854 that he first made the acquaintance of Morelli, and the similarity in their general aims immediately brought them together. The very differences in their natures undoubtedly contributed to solidify their friendship. Consti- tuted as they were, there could be no possible rivalry between them. Palizzi could not paint 3/0 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. Madonnas or scenes from history and romance. Morelli never painted animals or landscapes. Both of them disliked, with a fervency of feeling which would bear interpretation by a stronger word, the academic party in art ; and joining hands upon this one issue, they never loosened their friendly grasp until they had witnessed the entire defeat of their opponents. The number of pictures which Palizzi has pro- duced is very large, and I am not aware that any catalogue of them which can pretend to even partial completeness has ever been made. It was his habit to preserve all his original studies, made directly from nature, and to sell only the compositions which he produced at second-hand from these. In 1892, feeling that his career was at an end and that he should never have any further use for his original studies, he presented the greater part of them to the government and took charge himself of their arrangement in the room set apart for them in the National Gallery of Modern Art at Rome. The majority of these small canvases prove upon exami- nation to be studies of animals, but they are not exclusively of that nature, as a few studies of plants and some out-of-door scenes without animals will be found among them. The collection also con- tains many of the original studies for the picture representing the wounding of Prince Humbert at the battle of Custoza, a work in which the painter stepped, for the moment, outside of his proper FROM THE PAINTING RY PATTZZI / 1 >; ■ 1 THE MODERN NEAPOLITAN SCHOOL. 371 province with only moderately successful results. Amono: the studies of animals one of the best is that of a cow feeding in a stable (No. 132) painted with a minuteness of detail which entitles it to be considered as a finished picture rather than a study. Near the door at one end of the room is a fine head of a lion, nearly or quite life-size, which the artist is said to have painted from life in the Jardin des Plantes at Paris. The same study has been repro- duced by him in a large majolica plaque which forms one of the principal ornaments of the collec- tion of majolicas at the Museo Artistico Industriale at Naples. Number 162, representing a recently excavated house at Pompeii, is a good study of out- of-door light and shade. Upon examining the sketches in their chronoloo^ical order, bec^innino^ at the left on entering the room, it will be seen that one of the principal defects in Palizzi’s earliest work was the failure to raise his lio-ht and shade o to a sufficiently high pitch, a weakness which he had entirely overcome before he produced the study of the house at Pompeii just referred to. Palizzi never rose to quite so high a level as a picture-maker (the reader will understand what I mean by the term) as Edwin Landseer or Rosa Bonheur, to compare him with two of the most popular animal-painters of northern Europe. He shared, to some extent, Landseer’s tendency to humanize the brute creation, and in occasional instances, as for example in his picture entitled the 372 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. Kiss in the Desert, representing a lion and a lioness lying side by side while one of the royal creatures licks the muzzle of the other, he selected a subject which Landseer might have chosen and treated it with equal skill; but as a rule he was satisfied with a merely accidental grouping of the animals which he drew upon his canvas. The qualities which distinguish his talent from that of Rosa Bonheur were of a different sort, and precisely the reverse of what we would expect considering the sex of the two artists. Palizzi was of a more modest and retiring nature than his distinguished French contemporary. He felt not the slightest impulse to produce large, striking works of the style of the Horse Fair, being restrained as much by his distaste for display as by his deficient skill in composition. The leading quality in his talent was what might be termed his worship of fact. He could doubtless have repeated with conviction Bartolini’s assertion that he who learns how to copy has learned the whole lesson of art. Probably without knowing that the distinguished Tuscan sculptor had ever made such a statement, he en- forced its truth by precept and by example every day of his life ; and it is to his insistent assertion and reassertion of this one principle that he owes his right to be considered as one of the two great leaders of the modern Neapolitan school. CHAPTER XIII. RECENT PAINTERS OF SOUTHERN ITALY. Neapolitan painters of the modern school. — Achille Vertunni. — Character of his early training and first works. — Change in his style after his removal to Rome. — His later pictures. — Federigo Cortese and his work. — Outline of the career of Francesco Netti. — Important picture by this artist at Capodimonte. — General charac- ter of his work. — Bernardo Celentano, and the brilliancy of his talent. — Early picture at Capodimonte. — Portrait in the National Gallery. — The Council of Ten in the Vonwiller collection. — Ce- lentano’s last work and premature death. — Cantillo Miola and his realistic interpretation of Greco-Roman subjects. — Michele Cani- marano and his work. — The liberation of Masaniello from prison, as represented by Vincenzo Marinelli, in a picture now in the Gal- lery of Modern Art at Turin. — Outline of Marinelli’s career. — Rubens Santoro and his success in rendering brilliant effects of light and color. — The Sicilian painter, Giuseppe Sciuti. — Diffi- culties surmounted by this artist in obtaining an education. — Pict- ures by Sciuti at the Brera and in the National Gallery. — The remarkable talent of Giuseppe De Nittis. — His emigration to Paris and first works exhibited there. — Pictures painted between 1870 and 1878. — The “Place des Pyramides” is purchased for the Lux- embourg. — Later works. — Eduardo Dalbono. — His early studies in Italy and subsequent work abroad. — Comments on the picture representing the excommunication of King Manfred. — Dalbono’s later pictures. — The position of Francesco Paolo Michetti among the painters of southern Italy. — His first appearance at Naples as described by Dalbono. — The sensation created by the exhibition of the Procession of Corpus Domini in 1877. — Important picture painted for the national exposition at Rome in 1883. — The work is purchased by the government for the National Gallery. — Michetti's smaller pictures. — The Italian parentage of Dante Gabriel Rossetti. 373 374 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. — The extent to which Rossetti was influenced by his English environment. — Development of certain Italian tendencies in his work. Among the contemporaries of Palizzi and Morelli one of the first to distinguish himself by the adop- tion of the ideas of the new school was the land- scape-painter, Achille Vertunni. Vertunni had what Palizzi had not, a talent for composition. He also surpassed Palizzi, or to confine myself to indisputable facts, I should perhaps say that he differed from Palizzi, in the management of color. The older master confined himself to copying col- ors as he found them, just as he confined himself to the role of a copyist in the reproduction of the forms of objects. Vertunni invented schemes of color and never hesitated to go outside of what was natural and probable when he saw an opportunity of secur- ing added beauty of effect. Vertunni was born at Naples in 1826, and was therefore of the same aw as Morelli. He studied O painting under Salvatore Fergola, a picture-maker of the old school, who was entirely destitute of any modern ideas or inclinations toward modern meth- ods. Fergola stood high in the favor of the Nea- politan royal family, and accompanied the king on his journey to Madrid at the time of the marriage of the Princess Maria Cristina to Ferdinand VII of Spain, attending the royal party in the capacity of view-painter for the purpose of preserving some graphic memorial of the expedition. He affected RECENT PAINTERS. 375 such subjects as royal pageants and ceremonials, and his pupil, Vertunni, could hardly have learned from him anything of consequence, except possibly some general idea of the value of pictorial effect. In 1853 or 1854 Vertunni removed from Naples to Rome, taking with him, as it subsequently appeared, a certain tendency toward a more novel form of expression, which he must have derived from con- tact with the younger Neapolitan painters, who were then just beginning their crusade against the ideas of the Academy. His first work at Rome, a picture representing the imprisonment of Pia dei Tolomei, was composed according to the conserva- tive formula. “ There were mountains and valleys in it,” — to quote from a description by one of Ver- tunni’s critics, — “ ideal torrents and trees, and in the centre a small group of figures, which brought it within the category of what was then termed his- toric landscape, the figures representing a group of guards who were bearing off Pia dei Tolomei to the castle in the Maremma which was to be her prison and her tomb. ” This perfectly conventional work was followed in 1856 by another landscape, representing the Roman Campagna, in which Ver- tunni first exhibited his progressive tendencies and which may be regarded as marking his open con- version to the artistic faith of the younger genera- tion of Neapolitan artists. The earlier picture had been a pronounced success at Rome, because it ex- hibited unusual dexterity in a conventional form of 376 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. composition which was still popular ; the landscape of 1856, based upon direct studies of nature, was a complete failure because the public mind was as yet unprepared for naturalistic landscape or any other form of naturalistic art. Vertunni nevertheless persevered in his deter- mination to reject the old-fashioned style which had characterized his first work, and as early as 1861 had succeeded in winning recognition through- out Italy as one of the pioneers of the liberal move- ment in art. Francesco Dali’ Ongaro, in speaking of the first Italian national exposition held at Flor- ence in 1861, says that when the canvases of Ver- tunni and some of his Neapolitan contemporaries were taken from their cases they made all the others seem pale ; and he adds that their brilliant coloring, which at first sight seemed crude and false, was recognized later as only the legitimate and natu- ral result of a faithful attempt to transfer the effects of southern sunlight to canvas with photographic accuracy and truth. Vertunni made a specialty for a number of years of views of the Roman Cam- pagna, and is possibly better known to this day for his illustrations of that particular subject than for his treatment of any other theme. It is impossible to say that his manner was wholly free from con- ventionality; indeed, upon comparing his work with that of such an artist as Filippo Carcano, it seems extremely conventional ; but it was nevertheless much more advanced than the work of the land- RECENT PAINTERS. 377 scapists who preceded him, and in i86i was natu- rally regarded as almost revolutionary. One of Vertunni’s characteristic views of the country near Rome, entitled simply Campag 7 ia Ro- mana and bearing no date, may be seen in the Na- tional Gallery of Modern Art. In the foreground there is a broad expanse of green, rising to about a third of the height of the canvas, and above it is a grayish white sky filled with luminous clouds ; in the distance, at the right, there is a glimpse of the sea, and nearer the observer there are two large, well-formed trees. Canvases by Vertunni repre- senting the Campagna under different lights and in a great variety of aspects are to be seen in many private collections in England and America. A landscape owned by Miss Tolman of Boston shows the marshy country near Rome under a late after- noon light ; pools of open water in the foreground, bordered by patches of coarse reddish grass, reflect the pale blue sky; a strip of purple forest in the background forms a line of pleasing color against the horizon, and in the middle distance is a fine group of stone-pines, their trunks touched by the reddish evening light. Vertunni rarely introduces any figures or any living creatures in his views of the Campagna, unless it be a solitary buffalo brows- ing on the coarse grass, or a cow standing in the marshy pools. In 1870 Vertunni exhibited a number of his works in London, and his pictures were favorably 378 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. spoken of by the English critics. He was repre- sented by several works at the international exposi- tion at Vienna in 1873, and was referred to by the distinguished art-writer, Camillo Boito, as being al- most the only Italian landscape-painter whose work could be regarded as equal in merit to that of the landscapists of other nationalities. Sometime be- fore 1875 he made a journey to Egypt, and fre- quently treated Egyptian subjects in the pictures painted after his return. He has also found many subjects for his pencil in the country about Naples, and is well known as a painter of Venetian scenes. The country near Salerno, a few hours’ journey south of Naples, furnished him the theme for his picture entitled La Campagiia di Saleriio in the National Gallery at Rome, and the torrent of the Nera in Umbria gave him the subject for his can- vas entitled Torrente la Nera in the Academy of Fine Arts at Florence.’ He was an industrious and rapid workman, and produced a large number of pictures. He died at Rome on the twentieth day of June, 1897. Another Neapolitan landscape-painter whose works are well known abroad is Federigo Cortese, who was born at Naples in 1829 and who studied art first at Naples and afterward at Rome, passing the greater part of the time between 1855 and 1864 in the latter city. During the period of his Roman residence he enjoyed the intimacy of Vertunni and of other painters of the new school who were then RECENT PAINTERS. 379 rising into prominence, among them being Celen- tano, Ussi, and Barabino. An idea of the style of painting adopted by Cortese may be formed from the landscape entitled The Forest of Capodimonte, now in the collection of modern pictures in the Academy of Fine Arts at Florence. There is a slight touch of conventionality in this picture, indi- cating that the literal reproduction of a natural scene according to the methods taught and prac- tised by Palizzi did not recommend itself entirely to the artist’s judgment. An original imprint is, however, given to the work by the character of the technique, which is wholly different from the smooth and highly finished manner in vogue at Naples prior to 1850. Cortese produces his effects by a series of dots or splashes, and evidently does not manipulate his brushes in the ordinary manner. Among the painters of the younger group who came early under the direct influence of Morelli was the Cavaliere Francesco Netti, who was born at Santeramo in Colle, a town in the province of Bari, December 24, 1832. Netti received a liberal education, and was intended by his parents to fol- low the legal profession; but not finding the study of jurisprudence congenial, the young man decided to devote himself to art. He commenced his new studies at Naples prior to 1856, but in the latter year removed to Rome, where he remained until 1859, working and studying by himself. Subse- quent to i860 he passed a year or more in the 38o history of modern ITALIAN ART. studio of Morelli and was, I believe, considerably influenced by his contact with that master. In 1867 he received an appointment as one of the commissioners to look after Italian interests at the Paris exposition, and remained abroad until the end of the Franco-Prussian war. He was thus given an opportunity to become intimately familiar with the work of the French artists who were then most in view, and in general to familiarize himself with the work of the artists of northern Europe who were represented at the exposition. The Cavaliere Netti was a writer as well as a painter, and after his death, which occurred September 28, 1894, his papers on art subjects were collected and published in two volumes, under the titles of Scritti varii and Per Varte Italiana, An excellent biography of him has been written by Giuseppe Protomastro. Probably the best known of Netti’s paintings is the large canvas representing a combat of gladia- tors at a Pompeian banquet, which is now at Capo- dimonte. Various features of the work suggest the influence of Morelli ; for example, the bril- liancy of the coloring, the high pitch of the light and shade, and the absence of hard contour-draw- ing. The scene which the artist has so vividly represented is a striking one, and is potently sug- gestive of the difference between the Latin civiliza- tion and that of our own time. The struggle of the two gladiators has just ended in the death of one of the contestants, and while his body is be- RECENT PAINTERS. 381 ing dragged away by an attendant, the victor in the duel receives smiling tributes to his valor from the women who have been watching the combat from the table, and who now crowd about him with offers of refreshment. Netti did not devote himself exclu- sively to Greco-Roman subjects, but showed great versatility in the selection of themes for his pict- ures. In all of his works, so far as one can judge from photographic reproductions, his style is much the same, the manner being distinctly modern and showing the artist s entire sympathy with the ideas of the younger Neapolitan school. Bernardo Celentano, who was born at Naples in 1835, and was therefore three years younger than Netti, brought himself much earlier into public view and was endowed with certain qualities of leadership which Netti did not possess. His career was brilliant but very brief, inasmuch as he died when he was barely twenty-eight years old. My general impression of Celentano, formed of course from what has been written about him, is of a man full of youthful vigor with an insatiable desire to escape from conventionalities and strike out on a new road toward some perfectly fresh achievement. The examples of his work which are most in sight are the pictures and studies now in the National Gallery at Rome and the large historical painting at Capodimonte. This last has for its subject Ben- venuto Cellini at the defence of the Castle of S. Angelo, a little known incident in the life of the 382 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. great chiseller. It is not to be ranked among the works of Celentano which do the most credit to his novelty and originality in subject and method. The tourist who visits the gallery in which it is placed cannot fail to see it, as it occupies the whole of the wall of the first room, immediately opposite the entrance ; but it certainly will not strike him as the work of an innovating mind, the composition being too much of the same general character as that of many other Italian historical paintings to make it detach itself distinctly from the mass. The color- ing was bold for the period when the work was pro- duced, but its boldness was the result of simple audacity — the outcome of a spirit of rebellion un- guided by the artist’s better taste — and at present it has little power to please. The pictures and studies in the National Gallery at Rome are more interesting, and one of them, the portrait of the artist himself, is a work of rare promise. Celentano has represented himself in the dress affected by the jeicnesse doree of the period. He wears a light waistcoat, an extravagant cravat, and a tall hat, and has a cane in his hand. He also has a cigar in his mouth, and the expression of the face is in perfect keeping with the character of his attire. It is clear that he meant to shock all per- sons of a sedate and sober turn of thought by the impudence of both his demeanor and his dress. Less stress should however be laid upon the uncon- ventional character of the pose and the costume, RECENT PAINTERS. 383 than upon the naturalness of the expression and the unique quality of the coloring. As a portrait the work must have been one of remarkable fidelity ; and as a study of color it must have stood almost or quite alone among Italian paintings of the period. As for this last quality I can only say that all the conventional hues are avoided and in their place is substituted a new combination of colors for which there was no precedent in the Italian art of the time. Fastened to the wall behind the figure are some play-bills in delicate tints of yellow, blue, pink, and green, which furnish a most agreeable contrast to the blacks and whites of modern civilian dress. This expedient for introducing effective touches of fresh color into a picture has been made familiar in recent years by painters of Paris street scenes; but at the time when Celentano used it, it was a novelty and must have impressed the conservative critics as a verv darino* venture. j O Among the other works by Celentano at the National Gallery are several studies which appear to have been made while he was preparing to paint his picture of the Council of Ten — probably his most famous canvas. The Council of Ten is now owned by Signor Vonwiller of Naples and is regarded by him as one of the treasures of his collection. The charm of the work seemed to me to lie in its per- fect unity in composition, in color, and in expres- sion. The highly ornamented fa9ade of the inner court of the Ducal Palace, with the Scala dei 384 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. Giganti rising at the left, forms the background, and across the scene, in front of this imposing architecture, moves the solemn procession of the councillors, proceeding with measured tread as if oppressed by the weight of some solemn duty which they were about to perform. The coloring of the architecture, and of the faces of the men, is of the quality of old parchment, with greenish shadows, — the same range of tints which the old masters em- ployed in painting the body of Christ in their En- tombments. The painter evidently used these hues with the conscious purpose of infusing a tragic sug- gestion into his work. In a few other particulars, which it is hardly worth while to mention, he showed his insistence upon originality of style. The shape of the picture is peculiar for the period, being very long and narrow, and the figures are extremely small in proportion to the dimensions of the canvas. The traditions of Italian figure-paint- ing demanded that the figures should be made the principal feature of the work and the background purely secondary, whereas here the architectural screen which forms the fondo is quite as important and occupies quite as large a share of the attention as the procession of small figures which furnish the human element in the scene. Celentano died at Rome on the twenty-eighth day of July, 1863, while he was at work on the picture which now hangs opposite the entrance of the small room at the National Gallery containing RECENT PAINTERS. 385 the collection of his studies, and which represents the poet Tasso seized by a recurrence of his fatal malady in the midst of a fete planned by his friends to celebrate his recovery. The circumstances of the painter’s sudden seizure by his own fatal illness have been preserved in detail by his friend Guglielmo De Sanctis, who was with him when he died ; and it appears from this narrative that Celentano was coloring his figure of Tasso when, without any warning, he was compelled to suddenly lay down his palette and brushes and call for assistance. The model, without laying aside his sixteenth century costume, rushed out into the street to summon medical aid, but when help arrived it was already too late. With his last strength the young painter had risen from the chair upon which he had fallen, and turned his canvas to the wall in order that it might not be seen in its unfinished condition by those whom he foresaw that his illness would call into the room. The premature death of this promis- ing young man — he was, as I have said, only twenty- eight at the time — was a serious loss to Italian art. I do not know of any other painter among his con- temporaries, with the exception of Morelli, who showed such a progressive spirit or who seemed equally determined to free himself from the rigid bonds of tradition and produce a form of art which should be perfectly fresh and new. Camillo Miola, one of the distinguished contem- poraries of Netti and Celentano, was born at Naples 386 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. in 1840, and studied art at the Neapolitan Institute and in the studio of Morelli. Miola has made a special study of ancient manners and customs and of Latin physiognomy, and has shown rather more of the archeological spirit than is exhibited in general by Italian artists who undertake to treat such subjects. One of his earlier pictures, said to be now in the Palazzo Municipale at Naples, is entitled Plautus the Miller, and represents the Latin dramatist seated beside his mill and declaiming one of his plays from a scroll which he holds in his hand. The race-type of the play-writer and of his audience is clearly not the contemporary Italian type, and the strange features give one a singular sensation of being brought face to face with another world and with people made of quite different flesh and blood from that which makes up our own organisms and circulates in our own veins. In the painting entitled The Oracle of Delphi, exhibited at Turin in 1880, the facial types are less distinctly archaic and the work is therefore less forcible than the earlier painting. Side by side with Miola among the better known painters of the modern Neapolitan school I must place Michele Cammarano, who at the age of fifteen was studying landscape under Gabriele Smargiassi at Naples, but who four years later came under the influence of Palizzi and was induced by the latter to give up landscape-painting for figure-painting, and the somewhat antiquated methods of Smargiassi for a more direct study of RECENT PAINTERS. 387 nature. Cammarano removed to Rome prior to 1870 and at the time of the taking of that city by the troops of Victor Emmanuel was occupying a studio near the street now known as the Via Vend Settembre. The thrilling spectacle of the charge of the Italian riflemen down that street on the day of the final downfall of the papal power suggested to Cammarano the subject of his most famous picture, entitled La carica dei bersaglieri, which is now at the Royal Villa of Capodimonte at Naples. In this work the riflemen are seen advancing at a quickstep directly toward the observer, all except the front rank being hidden from view by a cloud of yellow dust. Lying upon the ground just before the leading figures is a small cap with a visor, quite an insignificant object to the general observer, but full of suggestiveness to those who recognize in it the kepi worn by the papal zouaves. The enemy is evidently in full flight and the field is left clear for the triumphant advance of the Italian soldiers. This canvas was exhibited at the international exposition at Vienna in 1873 and was purchased by the King of Italy. The style of the painting is extremely modern and any one familiar with the history of the development of Italian art in this century would know at a single glance that it could not have been produced earlier than i860. Vincenzo Marinelli is the author of a fine paint- ing in the Gallery of Modern Art at Turin repre- senting Ferrante Carafa riding through the streets 388 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. of Naples with Masaniello, the popular hero, seated on the horse behind him. The two principal fig- ures are followed and almost surrounded by an acclaiming throng of lazaroni and citizens, and among the many figures that of a man in the fore- ground who stoops down to pick up a sword is particularly well rendered. The picture was com- pleted in 1869 and exhibited at the national exposi- tion at Parma in 1870, where it was purchased by King Humbert, then Prince of Piedmont, and sub- sequently presented by him to the city of Turin. The distinguishing merit of the work is the inter- pretation of light and shade and of color, the picture being in both of these respects remarkably pro- gressive for the period at which it was painted. Marinelli had a somewhat varied career. He was born at S. Martino d’Agri in 1820, and in 1837, when he was seventeen years old, established him- self at Naples in order to avail himself of the superior educational advantages which that city afforded. Five years later he obtained a pension for study at Rome, and from 1842 until 1848 passed his time principally in the papal city. Upon the expiration of his pension he determined to try his fortunes abroad and settled first at Athens where he obtained a number of commissions from the then sovereign of Greece, King Otto, a prince of the Bavarian royal family. From Greece he passed to Egypt where he became a personal friend of the Khedive Said Pasha, and accompanied the latter on a journey to RECENT PAINTERS. 389 the Soudan, busying himself in making sketches of Egyptian landscapes and figures which he after- ward used as the material for many oriental pictures. Returning to Naples in 1859, he passed the greater part of his time in Italy until 1869, when he made a second visit to Egypt to be present at the opening of the Suez canal and at that time made a voyage up the Nile to the first cataract. After this short journey abroad he established himself once more at Naples, and in 1875 became professor of drawing in the Institute of Eine Arts. After Morelli’s resig- nation of the professorship of painting in 1881 he was promoted to the vacant position and held it down to the time of his death, January 18, 1892. Hanging in the same gallery as Marinelli’s pict- ure representing Masaniello carried in triumph through the streets of Naples, is a small canvas by a Calabrian painter, Rubens Santoro, which pro- claims its author an even more uncompromising votary of the new msthetic faith than Marinelli him- self. Santoro’s picture, which represents a peasant woman standing by a dazzlingly white wall with a branch of delicate pink blossoms sweeping down toward her and a sky of the intensest blue over- head, is as widely removed from the style which prevailed generally throughout Italy forty years ago as the most advanced canvas by Morelli. One would assert with confidence upon the evidence of this picture alone that the clever Calabrian could never have received the narrowing instruction which 390 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. was imparted to Marinelli and his contemporaries in their youth, and that his education must have com- menced almost at the point where theirs left off. As a matter of fact Santoro knew little of acade- mies, his style having developed itself largely with- out any regular instruction and having been drawn into its present form by sympathy with certain con- spicuous models rather than by compulsory disci- pline. When his talent was at the most plastic stage the young man came in contact with Fortuny, and the leading of that brilliant artist proved irre- sistibly fascinating, exerting a powerful influence on his whole subsequent career. Santoro’s production has been very large and his luminous canvases have found their way into the collections of many foreign connoisseurs. Although the style of painting adopted by Giu- seppe Sciuti is much more Roman than Neapolitan, I am obliged to insert what I have to say of him in this connection, inasmuch as he was born (1835) in the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies and is therefore geographically a member of the Neapolitan group. His birthplace was the village of Zafferano on the slopes of Mount Etna, and his early life was passed in Sicily. In 1850, when he was fifteen years old, he commenced to study art under the direction of a scene-painter at Catania and continued his work afterward under an artist by the name of Gandolfo, who also resided at Catania and of whom Sciuti spoke in later years in terms of the highest praise RECENT PAINTERS. 391 as deserving of much wider recognition than he ever obtained. An eruption of Mount Etna in 1852 destroyed the property of the artist’s father, and, his small allowance being withdrawn, it became necessary for the young man to work for his own support. He obtained employment at this time as assistant to a decorative painter and subsequently continued the same class of work on his own ac- count, earning enough in the course of eleven years to make it possible for him to visit Florence, where he remained long enough to paint one or two pict- ures. Returning to Sicily he continued his work as a decorative painter for two years more and then removed to Naples, where he resided for some time, exhibiting his pictures at the expositions held by the Neapolitan society for the promotion of the fine arts. In 1875 he transferred his residence from Naples to Rome and has made the latter city his headquarters ever since. Sciuti is best known by his works in the neo- classic style representing scenes from Greek or Roman history. One of his pictures of this de- scription, painted in 1872 and representing Pindar singing the praises of a victor at the Olympic games, is now in the Picture Gallery of the Brera at Milan (Room XXII). The incident takes place in a room adjoining an amphitheatre and the poet is surrounded by a large number of people who liave just witnessed the athletic contests in which the hero of the moment has distinguished himself. 392 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. The faces and figures are well painted and show considerable diversity of character, but the light and shade is not so cleverly rendered as in some of the artist’s later works. There is another and more important work by Sciuti in the National Gallery at Rome, representing the replenishing of the Roman treasury by the voluntary gifts of citizens {Restauratio curarii), which does much more credit to his skill. The figures are life-size and are ad- mirably drawn and painted. The light and shade are perfectly rendered, the brilliant effect of out-of- door sunlight streaming through the openings being painted with deceptive naturalness. The artist has also shown remarkable expertness in rendering effects of texture, discriminating woven fabrics from marble and marble from metal with unerring accuracy. The copper vessel which is being brought into the room by one of the slaves is painted with a perfection which leaves nothing to be desired. In this picture Sciuti rises quite to the level of his distinguished contemporary, Cesare Maccari, and establishes his right to be considered one of the foremost Italian historical painters of his time. Giuseppe De Nittis, who made himself so well known between 1870 and 1880 by his Paris and London street scenes and other clever studies of contemporary life, was born at Barletta, in the king- dom of Naples, in 1846, and consequently belongs to the group of south- Italian artists, although the RECENT PAINTERS. 393 most productive part of his life was passed abroad. He received his elementary art-education at the Naples Academy, and prior to his removal to Paris, which occurred about 1868, must have been more or less intimately associated with the painters of the younger Neapolitan school. Upon arriving at the French capital he sought advice of Gerome and Meissonier, and in deference to their suggestions made a specialty, for a while, of painting the figure. As a result of his adoption of their advice he may have obtained some valuable practice, but was nev- ertheless held back for two or three years from the definite selection of the line of work in which he was specially fitted to succeed. Among the pict- ures which date from this first period are the rela- tively unsuccessful Visite chez V antiquaire, exhib- ited at the Salon of 1869, and Une visite le 7 natin, exhibited in 1870. During the war of 1870-1871 De Nittis returned to Italy, and shortly after resuming his residence in Paris exhibited at the Salon of 1872 the picture representing a diligence crawling along over a dusty Italian road, called La roiite de Brindisi, which proved to be his first wholly successful work. After this came in 1873 another Italian subject, B ascension du Vesuve, and then in 1874 and 1875 two French subjects: Fait-il froid! representing two Parisian ladies muffled in eleo^ant furs bravincf the frosty winter air, and La Place de la Concorde, showing that famous square in the interval between 394 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. two showers, with the pavement converted into a mirror by the thin layer of water spread over its surface. In 1876 came the still more successful Place des Pyramides, which received a Salon medal and was purchased by the government for the Lux- embourg. Prior to 1876 De Nittis visited Eng- land and on his return to Paris exhibited several glimpses of London, — Westminster Bridge, Picca- dilly, Green Park, The Bank of England, Trafalgar Square, Rotten Row, — which delighted the Paris- ians by their clever seizure of the more salient features of English metropolitan life. At the uni- versal exposition of 1878 he was represented by these and other pictures, and the merit of his work was recognized by a first-class medal, to which was added the cross of the Legion of Honor. Several Neapolitan scenes were among the pict- ures exhibited by De Nittis at a private exhibition in Paris in 1880, indicating that subsequent to the date of the universal exposition he had found time to return to his native country and to make some fresh studies there. At another private exhibition, in 1881, he appeared with eighteen pastels, showing a daring and successful venture into a new field ; and I may add here that De Nittis was quite expert as a painter in water-colors, and was not unskilful as an etcher. His death in 1884 was sadly pre- mature, inasmuch as he was only thirty-eight years of age at the time, and evidently had a very brilliant career before him. As one of his French admirers RECENT PAINTERS. 395 observed, he was even better fitted than any French artist to seize upon and cleverly render the charac- teristic aspects of modern life in Paris, because it was all fresh and novel to him and consequently left an exceptionally clear and sharp impression upon his sensitive mind. Eduardo Dalbono, who was born at Naples in 1843, is probably better known abroad than any of the artists whom I have thus far mentioned in this chapter with the exception of Vertunni. He com- menced his art studies at Rome and continued them afterward at Naples, where he became a pupil of Morelli. One of his earliest important works was a historical painting representing the excommunica- tion of King Manfred, which was exhibited at Parma in 1870 and won its author a medal. Subsequent to that date Dalbono removed to Paris and executed a number of commissions for Goupil, making Paris his home for several years. The early historical painting to which I have just referred is a work of considerable interest and shows more than ordinary taste in composition. The scene is represented as taking place on a broad terrace with King Manfred and his suite at the right, and a group of monks, the representatives of the excom- municating power, at the left. Both groups are dramatically composed: the king standing in a defiant attitude with the men and women of his court gathered about him ; the ecclesiastics bending their crosses and tapers solemnly to the earth while 396 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. the anathemas of the church are being formally pro- nounced by their leader. In the background are some mediaeval houses with towers and gables pro- filing themselves against the sky. Whether the manner in which the artist has represented the scene has any historical justification I do not know, but the composition is not wanting in dramatic effectiveness and the accessories are extremely picturesque. Dalbono’s later pictures are not at all like the painting which I have just described, and his ideals seem to have undergone an entire change subsequent to 1870. Landscapes, marines, studies of peculiar effects of light and shade, and facile compositions representing scenes of contem- porary life, have occupied his mind to a large extent in recent years, to the exclusion, I believe, of more serious compositions. As examples of the pictures of this latter class I may mention the Pescatori di von- ^6>/^(i 885), showing a group of fishermen standing in the water, and the Nuova canzone in which we see a boat filled with people in gala attire floating on the waters of the bay of Naples. A characteristic feature of both of these works is the large amount of space given to the sky, which fills two-thirds of the picture. One sees at a glance that these later paintings were executed without effort or re- search, but they are certainly brilliant in style and render the spirit of the scene with remark- able success. It was Dalbono who first discovered the remark- RECENT PAINTERS. 397 able talent of Francesco Paolo Michetti, who came to Naples unknown and unprotected in 1868, and who has since risen to heights unattained by any of his fellows. The genius of Michetti is profoundly national, being almost too Italian at times to suit the foreign taste. His range of expression is ex- ceptionally extended ; and when he is at his ex- tremes, none but those who share his Italian blood can follow him with entire sympathy. It is with him as with his fellow-artist in another field of aesthetics, Gabriele D’Annunzio, Both have been endowed by nature with a perceptive and expressive organism of the most exceptional order ; and when the subject which they select is not morbid, not sensational, not erotic, all persons stand delighted in the contemplation of their work. But when they cross the Latin line and devote themselves to the analysis of sensations which only awaken in our natures emotions of repugnance and disgust, of course we turn away from them and feel a sense of regret at what we instinctively regard as the misdirection of such fine talents. Michetti was born in the Abruzzi, the native province of Palizzi and of Barbella, and after re- ceiving some irregular and imperfect art-instruction from a local master, came to Naples on a provincial pension in 1868 for the purpose of completing his education. Dalbono’s first encounter with him was at the evening class at the Academy where Michetti had stolen in, apparently without taking the pains 39 ^ HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. to apply regularly for admission. The older artist describes the new-comer as “ an uncouth specimen of a boy, who had coiled himself up into a peculiar attitude and was drawing in the dark.” “ Impelled by a certain curiosity,” Dalbono says, “ I went up to him and asked him why he remained there in the dark instead of coming and drawing on the benches ; ‘ And then,’ I added, ‘ how do you think you can draw without any support for your paper The boy raised his head and looked at me with two large, flashing, and impudent eyes, which were — for that matter — the only clean thing about his face, otherwise smeared with crayon and black as a collier’s, and replied with an undisguised Abruzzese accent : ‘ And who is going to give me anything to put my paper on You have to have a permit. I am not in the class, and the janitor drives me off every evening.’ ‘ Never mind,’ I said ; ‘ let me see what you are doing.’ I had to take the piece of paper by force out of his hands, and when I looked at it I saw that the boy drew better than any one else in the room. I asked him what his name was and the name of the place that he came from, and in this way I learned that ‘ the teacher’ at Chieti had given him his first lessons in drawing. Then I went to the janitor of the Academy and asked him to give a light and a table to the young peasant, who in turn asked me what my name was, which I gave him, and also my address. I told him he might come and see me, RECENT PAINTERS. 399 and we parted the best of friends.” Michetti acted upon Dalbono’s invitation and visited him at his rooms, studying every object of artistic interest with the closest attention and without exhibiting for an instant the slightest trace of embarrassment or timidity — qualities which I believe never existed in his nature. The episode is significant as to the character of the man, — bold, assertive, deter- mined to extract from the world what there was of value to him in it, and indifferent as to all the rest. After a comparatively brief period of study at Naples, Michetti seems to have disappeared- — re- turning probably to his native province. In 1875 one of his pictures of shepherdesses of the Abruzzi was engraved for an Italian journal, the Illustra- zione of Milan. Still he remained practically un- known in Italy, though he had already begun to sell his pictures in Paris. In 1877 he made what was virtually his Italian debut by exhibiting at Naples his large canvas entitled The Procession of Corpus Domini, representing a popular religious festival of southern Italy, a work which made a great impression upon the public, and gave the critics much to say. The painting represented the front of a church with a broad flight of steps descending toward the foreground, occupying the whole width of the canvas. Out of the central door came a religious procession, with much pomp and ceremonial, and at either side were other groups 400 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. of figures, at the left a band of local musicians, and at the right a body of the townspeople issuing from a lateral door. The gayety and animation of the scene were admirably rendered, and the style had a fascinating element of novelty. The picture violated all the rules, and yet it provoked the admiration of the public and scored an unqualified success. After bewildering the critics with the Procession of Corpus Domini, Michetti passed once more out of sight for several years, not coming to the front again until 1880, when he exhibited a number of works at the national exposition held at Turin, among them the pictures entitled La Domenica delle Palme, Le pescatrici di tondine, and I 7 norticelli ; this last a pathetic procession of peasants accom- panying to their last resting-place two infants lying side by side upon an open bier. Later, at Milan in 1881, Michetti was represented by thirty-three studies in distemper — a process of which he had determined to make himself the master — repre- senting a variety of subjects, such as groups of peasants, studies of heads, glimpses of the sea, and various aspects of out-of-door Italian life. Between 1881 and 1883 no important Italian exposition was held ; but in the latter year came the national expo- sition at Rome, which was looked forward to as an artistic event of much importance, and for this ex- position Michetti painted his large picture entitled II Voto (The Vow), which was subsequently pur- RECENT PAINTERS. 401 chased by the government, and which is now in the National Gallery of Modern Art at Rome. This great canvas, which was probably more ob- served than any other one work at the exposition of 1883, represented a number of peasants crawling along on the floor of a church toward a silver head placed on the steps of the choir, in fulfilment of some vow or pledge which they had made in invok- inof the assistance of the local saint whom the head was supposed to represent. Behind the crawling figures the artist had placed a row of kneeling votaries with burning tapers in their hands, and behind these another row of standing figures. The subject is pathetic and repulsive at the same time. One shrinks back at the spectacle of the spiritual degradation into which these poor people have been sunk by their inherited superstition ; but the total absence of any fault on their part, and the mute appeal for spiritual and intellectual enlightenment involved in their very act, are the elements in the subject which make the abiding impression upon one’s mind. The general style of the work, so far as the character of the execution is concerned, is that of a clever impromptu. The heads and faces are carefully studied, and painted with startling relief ; but the rest of the picture is simply sketched in. The silver head of the saint furnishes a good illustration of the painter’s skill in produ- cing by a few coarse splashes an effect which at a distance of three or four yards is singularly truthful. 402 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. rendering the effect of a piece of luminous metal- work with striking accuracy.^ So far as I am aware Michetti never undertook to paint a pendant to the picture just described, or to go any further in the development of that par- ticular vein. A great many demands were made upon him for canvases of small dimensions which would fit into the cabinets of private collectors, and he naturally devoted himself, principally, to producing a class of work suited to the wants of his patrons. The National Gallery owns one of his small canvases, and inasmuch as it has been placed very near II Voto those who visit that collection ^Francesco Netti, who greatly admired this particular picture, — asserting that it exercised an irresistible fascination over him, infallibly drawing him back whenever he attempted to get away from it, — nar- rates the following anecdote in speaking of the circumstances under which the artist obtained the material for his work. He says that at about an hour’s distance, by carriage, from Michetti’s home was a small village containing a church with a sacred image of S. Pantaleone, probably a fragment of some ancient work of art unearthed in the vicinity. At the request of the authorities of the place, who wished to have some reproduction of the sacred image, Michetti under- took to go to the village and superintend the process of photographing it. The time selected was the feast of the saint, when the image was to be taken from its shrine and carried about the village in a procession. Everything was made ready, and the image was in fact photographed just as it issued from the door of the church. An hour or two afterward a terrific hail-storm swept over the town, doing very serious damage to the growing crops. The peasants, remembering the photographing process, and interpreting the storm as a sign of the wrath of heaven at the impious act, undertook to find the artist and photographer. What was the fate of the latter is not stated, but Michetti, forewarned in time that a search was being made for him, jumped into his waiting vehicle and found safety in precipitate flight. RECENT PAINTERS. 403 can see at a glance the gulf which separates his cabinet-style from his gallery-style, and can at the same time admire and marvel at the extraordinary versatility of his talent. The smaller picture repre- sents a shepherdess of the Abruzzi, a favorite sub- ject with Michetti, and it is painted with the same loving care which a miniature-painter bestows upon his work. Nothing can exceed the nicety with which the face is rendered, or the pains taken with the costume, or the elaborate detail of the fruit which the shepherdess carries in her hand. As for the coloring it exhibits not a trace of the sombre- ness of tint which prevails in the great painting near by. Everything is fresh, clean, sparkling ; the greens are as verdant as the vegetation of a Dutch polder, and the whole character of the work is as strikingly different as possible from that of the Voto. The picture of the shepherdess may be taken as a typical example of a large class of Michetti s pro- ductions. Other canvases, differing more or less in subject, but strikingly similar in general char- acter, can be found in collections all over Italy, and indeed all over Europe. In the Royal Villa at Monza there are four pictures of this description, three of them being of approximately the same dimensions and closely similar in subject to the shepherdess in the National Gallery; and the fourth being a larger canvas which tells a story and introduces a multitude of figures, a score of 404 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. young men and young women, the latter in brill- iant costumes exquisitely painted, forming an es- cort to a newly wedded pair on their first return to church after their marriage. In the collection of Giulio Pisa at Milan there are other works of the same class, one of them representing a shep- herdess followed by a flock of sheep; another much larger representing boys and girls standing in the water and operating some peculiar kind of fishing apparatus, while iridescent waves of an almost im- possible blue curve in upon the beach in regular cylinders. Among Michetti’s recent exhibition pictures the most valuable was the large study in distemper entitled the Daughter of Jorio, by which he was represented at the Venice international exposition of 1895, a work which showed a masterly interpretation of expression and some incidental traces of its author’s still-continuing desire to shock the conservatives and emphasize his independence of all conventional rules. I cannot conclude this chapter without some reference to another painter of the same race as Michetti, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, who, although placed by chance in a British environment, remained all his life isolated in the midst of insular Britain and never produced a British form of art. It is true that Rossetti was not of absolutely pure Italian stock, inasmuch as his maternal grandmother was English ; but this slight admixture of Saxon blood did not in the least affect his temperament, which FROM AN ENGRAVING OF THE PAINTING BY MICHETTI V. \ 1 RECENT PAINTERS. 405 was w^holly Latin, Italian, and Abruzzese. Rossetti came, indeed, much nearer to being a full-blooded Italian than Camillo Boito, whose mother was of pure Polish blood ; and if it is proper to regard Boito as an Italian artist, it cannot be entirely improper to place Rossetti in that category. Rossetti was never substantially affected, so far as his art-production was concerned, by his English education. His nature was too strong and too assertive to be swerved from its own normal course by anything which English teachers could say or do. They could no more mould his talent by any ordinary processes of the school-room than a sculptor could mould a mass of aerolitic iron by the simple pressure of his fingers. Rossetti was nomi- nally receiving a course of training at the Royal Academy antique school when he made his first approach to Ford Madox Brown ; ^ but his art never showed any very distinct trace of this preliminary instruction. Neither is it possible to say that, in his form of expression, he was permanently influenced by Brown. The outer envelope of their two arts remained distinct; and if there was any resemblance in their inner substance, it was simply the result of certain similarities of temperament, and not of an impression made by the older man on the younger man’s nature. During his mature life Rossetti frequently ex- ^ This was in March, 1848. Rossetti was nineteen years old at the time, as he was born May 12, 1828. 406 history of modern ITALIAN ART. hibited an un-English tendency in his temperament and in his art. It would be difficult to define that tendency with exactness ; but to define it loosely one might describe it as a tendency away from what was bright, sunny, cheerful, buoyant, and serene, toward the opposite of these qualities. The fact that similar tendencies have been exhibited by prominent English artists and writers does not alter the fact that the tendency itself is uncommon in persons of the Anglo-Saxon race. Ford Madox Brown exhibited it to a certain extent; and Burne- Jones, to take the most striking instance, proved himself even more Rossettian in his sympathies than Rossetti himself. In the case of both of these two men no one can for a moment think of affecta- tion : that must be put out of the question. All that can be said is, that they were exceptions — Burne-Jones a glaring exception — to the dominant tendency of English, or rather of British thought and taste. Any one who knows modern Italy and modern Italians will, I think, agree with me that these very qualities which I have called un-British are no rarity south of the Alps. There is much in Italian life that is cheerful and joyous, but at the same time there is an extraordinarily quick responsiveness to the sort of art and literature which expresses itself in a minor key. I believe this to be more common among the more intense folk of southern Italy than among the Italians of the northern part of the RECENT PAINTERS. 407 peninsula, and it was from the southern division of the race that Rossetti derived his descent. One of the general conclusions which are forced upon us, if we accept this view of Rossetti’s tem- perament, is that the English Pre-Raphaelite move- ment, as soon as it began to receive its definite shaping from his tastes, ceased to be a wholly Eng- lish movement and became a partly exotic growth, nurtured and sustained by a man whose blood would assert itself despite his surroundings ; and another conclusion is, that whatever we may think of the quality of the Italian genius, we cannot with justice pronounce it to be nugatory as a force, in- asmuch as the most wide-reaching in its effects and the most talked-of English art-movement in our own century owed the strongest element in its initiative to an artist of the Italian race. CHAPTER XIV. RECENT PAINTERS OF CENTRAL ITALY. Rome as an international art-centre. — Giovanni Costa and other pioneers of modern Roman art. — Cesar e Fracassini and his work. — Great success of his picture representing the Martyrs of Gorcum. — His frescos at the basilica of S. Lorenzo. — Other Roman painters of the modern school. — Jacovacci and Vatumtelli, — Pio loris . — Giulio Aristide Sartorio. — Affinity of the latter with the English Pre-Raphaelites. — Count Lemmo Rossi Scotti oi Perugia. — The modern Sienese school. — Cassioli and Franchi. — Cesar e Maccari. — Early studies of Maccari at Siena. — He obtains a pension and establishes himself in Rome. — Works produced between 1870 and 1880. — Frescos in the palace of the Senate at Rome. — Frescos in the church of the Santa Casa at Loreto. — Florentine artists of this period. — Stefano L/ssi 2L\'\.d his celebrated picture of the abdi- cation of the Duke of Athens. — Telemaco Sigiiorini. — The Flor- entine genre-painters. — Alberto Pasini. — Outline of his career prior to his journey to Persia. — He visits the domains of the Shah in 1855-1856. — His oriental pictures. — Subsequent journeys and acquisition of fresh art-material. — Honors conferred upon him at Paris. — General character of his work. — Giovajini Muzzioli of Modena. — His early studies at Rome and Florence. — Successful picture in the style of Alma Tadema exhibited at Milan in 1881. — His later work and premature death. Rome between 1855 and 1870 was a sort of art- exchange where painters from different parts of Italy and from the principal nations of northern and western Europe met together and communicated to each other their new ideas. I have already stated 408 RECENT PAINTERS. 409 that Vertunni and Celentano of the Neapolitan group joined, prior to 1863, this international fel- lowship ; and I shall have occasion to speak, in the subsequent pages, of several other painters from Tuscany and the northern provinces who did the same: Barabino, Ussi, Cassioli, and later Maccari, being prominent among them. The various acad- emies maintained at Rome by foreign governments furnished the permanent foreign contingent of the international group ; and the permanent list was extended from time to time by the addition of other names of eminent artists drawn to Rome for longer or shorter periods of study. Among the foreign painters the one who undoubtedly exerted the lar- gest influence upon Italian art at this time was Mariano Fortuny, who came to Rome as a pen- sioner of the Spanish government about 1857, and Avho passed the greater part of his time in Italy from that date until his death in 1874. Giovanni Costa, born about 1832, was one of the young Romans who absorbed readily, and with great profit to himself and to the public, the new ideas which were in the air between 1855 and 1870. His studies from nature had the breath of life in them and were raised, at the same time, above the level of the commonplace by the delicate taste which was inborn in the man and came to the surface in all his work then and afterward, — work which is quite as well known in London as it is in Italy. Roberto Bompiani, eleven years older than Costa and far 410 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. more conservative in every particular, nevertheless showed himself open to new ideas and emancipated himself in his best work almost entirely from what was narrow and conventional in the style imposed upon him by his early training. Bompiani devoted himself to sculpture at first, but later turned his attention almost or quite exclusively to painting, and became an Italian Bouguereau. He took his sub- jects from mythology, from history, and from re- ligious art, and peopled his canvases with figures of ideal beauty, making them physically perfect, and at the same time raising them above the plane of ordi- nary humanity by the nobility of their faces and the spirituality of their expression. His pictures are widely scattered ; some of them are in Italy, others in South America, and still others in the United States, among these last being a large composition, representing Diana and her nymphs surprised by Acteon, which hung for many years on the stair- case of the Gardner Brewer house in Boston. Among the intimates of Celentano at Rome were Cesare Fracassini and Guglielmo De Sanctis ; the latter having been, as was stated in the last chapter, one of those who were at the side of the brilliant young Neapolitan artist when he breathed his last. De Sanctis, who was born at Rome March 8, 1829, was a pupil of Minardi and remained more faithful in his work to the principles laid down by that master than many of the other young men who learned their profession in the studio of the distin- RECENT PAINTERS. 41I guished purist. He was first attracted to religious art, and preserves in one of his portfolios to this day a drawing of the Crucifixion which is quite as intensely Pre-Raphaelite in character as any of the works of Overbeck. Subsequently he devoted part of his time to historical painting, and finally gave himself up largely to portraiture, in which he ex- celled, his work being distinguished by sobriety of style and perfection of finish. One of his finest works in portraiture is the likeness of himself which hangs at present in the Uffizi Gallery at Florence. He has also painted excellent portraits of King Humbert, of Queen Margherita, of the late Emperor of Brazil, and of many other persons of social or political prominence ; and in addition has filled his sketch-books with clever pencil studies of a multitude of sitters, eminent in one way or another, who have visited him in his studio or whom he has met dur- ing his journeys abroad. De Sanctis lives at pres- ent in retirement at Rome, having been compelled by failing physical powers to give up active work in his studio. His last important historical paint- ing was the large picture representing a conference between the weak and vacillating pontiff. Innocent X, and the imperious Donna Olimpia Pamphilj Doria, which was highly praised by German critics, when it was exhibited at the Berlin international exposition of 1891, and was subsequently purchased by the Italian government for the National Gallery of Modern Art at Rome. 412 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. Cesare Fracassini, who became a pupil of Mi- nardi just as De Sanctis was completing his studies, undoubtedly listened with much docility to the instruction of that master during the early years of his novitiate ; but was later very much shaken in his fidelity to Minardian principles by his admira- tion for the work of Celentano, of whom he became a passionate admirer and devoted friend. Fracas- sini was born in 1838 (December 18), and is said to have passed the entire second decade of his exist- ence in Minardi’s studio. While still under the latter’s influence he painted an altar-piece for the church of S. Sebastiano in the Via Appia, and a Daphnis and Chloe (exhibited at Florence in 1861), which did little for his reputation ; and later, while still conforming to the principles of Minardi, he painted a series of drop-curtains which were more successful, winning much applause from the sec- tion of the Roman public who delight in bravura effects and care little for nicety of execution. On the night of the inauguration of one of these cur- tains, which was painted for the Teatro d’ Apollo at Rome, the audience exhibited far more interest in Fracassini’s work than they did in the play, applaud- ing it to the echo and demanding that it should be unrolled between the acts, although according to the rules of stage-managers it should only appear at the beginning and the end of the drama. The serious production upon which Fracassini’s reputation now rests and the only one in which he RECENT PAINTERS. 413 wholly emancipated himself from the influence of Minardi and conformed without reservation to the principles which he had learned from Celentano, is the large picture, entitled the Martyrs of Gorcum, which hangs at present in the room adjoining the Sala deir Immacolata at the Vatican, and is often noticed by tourists, although the guide-books have little to say about it. The historical incident which the painting perpetuates is the execution of some Franciscan friars by Dutch Calvinists near Gorcum in Holland, at the time when the struggle between the protestants and catholics had reached its bitter- est stage. In Fracassini’s picture some of the friars have already been hung from the rafters of a partly demolished house, and another victim who is about to share a like fate is being urged to abjure his faith by one of the leaders of the Calvinist party. The interpretation of expression approaches perfection, and in composition, drawing, and light and shade the work is of exceptional merit. The coloring has also a rich, robust beauty, showing that Fracassini’s talent was well developed on all sides, and that he had in him the making of a painter of the very highest order. The impression made by the pict- ure upon the Roman public was very profound. The work was painted in a studio in the Via Margutta (No. 33), subsequently occupied for many years by Guglielmo De Sanctis, and it was shown to the public in the atelier where it had been created, before it was removed to the V atican. The first 414 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. visitors expressed their admiration in such enthu- siastic terms that others immediately flocked to the spot, and in their train came still others, until twenty thousand people had passed before Fracas- sini’s canvas. White-haired men who had known all the minutest events of the Roman art-world for half a century could not remember that they had ever witnessed such enthusiasm. The only other important works of Fracassini are the frescos in the basilica of S. Lorenzo fuori le Mura which are commonplace and conventional compared to the painting just referred to. The young painter began the frescos at S. Lorenzo in 1864, and painted at that time the rather uninter- esting decorations of the arch spanning the entrance to the choir. These were followed by the first mural painting on the left wall of the nave, as one faces the choir, representing the consecration of St. Stephen as deacon, which was completed before Fracassini’s journey abroad after the success of the Martyrs in 1867. Upon returning from his brief tour he went on with his work at S. Lorenzo, paint- ing the first and second compartments on the right, representing St. Lawrence giving alms to the poor, and St. Lawrence showing the treasures of the church to the judges; he also prepared the small and carefully finished pastel-drawing of the con- demnation of St. Stephen (now in the National Gallery at Rome), which he intended to transfer to the second compartment on the left of the nave, RECENT PAINTERS. 415 but died (December 13, 1868) before he had com- menced the final work. This particular fresco was subsequently painted by his friend Paolo Mei, and the other wall-compartments were entrusted to another pupil of Minardi, Cesare Mariani, who was a less progressive artist than Fracassini and also less gifted by nature. Mariani’s work is inferior to Fracassini’s, but Fracassini’s is by no means up to his own best level, — the composition lacking the intense vitality which characterizes the picture at the Vatican and being also less robust and vigor- ous in coloring. A work quite as strong in sentiment and quite as perfect in its technical execution as Fracassini’s famous picture was produced a number of years after his death by one of his Roman contemporaries with whom he must have had occasional contact during the days when he stood at the head of the younger generation of Roman artists. The con- temporary to whom I refer was Francesco Jacovacci, born at Rome January 30, 1838, and during the greater part of his life a resident of that city. Jaco- vacci is said to have come under the influence of Fortuny between i860 and 1870, but I find nothing in any of his works which would seem to indicate any tendency on his part to sink into the role of a mere imitator of that brilliant artist. The influ- ence, so far as it existed, must have assumed the healthful form of a mere stimulus to original, inde- pendent effort, and an encouragement to abandon 4i6 history of modern ITALIAN ART. the somewhat antiquated methods which were un- doubtedly taught him when he was passing through his art-apprenticeship at Rome. Jacovacci placed his talent for several years at the service of Goupil, and during this period produced a number of genre-paintings of much originality in subject and treatment, and of great technical merit There is, in the royal collection at Capodimonte (Room VII), a small picture which may be classified as historical genre, and which shows how accom- plished Jacovacci became as a technician, and at the same time how effectually he escaped from the commonplace round of genre-subjects into a class of themes which were full of freshness and novelty. The picture represents the sculptor Bernini model- ling his own bust, and is full of life and truth, so far as composition, pose, and facial expression are con- cerned, quite novel in coloring, and nearly faultless in technique. The great work upon which Jaco- vacci’s fame in Italy principally rests is in the same gallery, and represents Michelangelo standing be- side Vittoria Colonna as she lies extended upon a bier, robed in white satin, with branches of laurel at her side and candles burning at her head and feet. No work in the gallery at Capodimonte so infallibly arrests the footsteps of the hurrying tourist as this one. It does not lie within the field of genre-paint- ing, but belongs to the domain of the historical painter. The figures are life-size, and the scene is historic, — with the possible exception of the pres- RECENT PAINTERS. 417 ence of Ascanio Condivi, whom Michelangelo holds by the hand, and whom the painter introduced be- cause his picture seemed to require it, and not because he found any justification for so doing in the records of Michelangelo’s friendship for the younger man. A glance at the work of which I am speaking will satisfy any one familiar with Fortuny’s pro- ductions of the truth of my statement that Jaco- vacci became no servile imitator of the clever Spaniard. If his work resembles that of any emi- nent modern painter it falls closer into line, in this particular instance, with that of Bonnat ; and the resemblance to the latter is confined to a certain abruptness in the contrast of the lights and shadows. The element of merit in the work which is attribu- table directly to inborn talent, and at which no artist can arrive by imitation, is the perfect accuracy of the expression of the faces and of the movement of the figures. Michelangelo bends over the silent form of his friend with a look upon his face which shows clearly the intensity of his regard, but at the same time instinctively presses his right hand against his doublet to avoid touching the dead body. Condivi stands at the left of his master and slightly behind him, not actuated by the same intensity of feeling, but animated by the profoundest respect for the great man’s emotion. Vittoria her- self is all calmness, serenity, and repose ; and the shadowy figures seen beyond the flames of the 41 8 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. candles are living emblems of mourning, in har- mony with the flickering lights and the sombre draperies. To the great merit of profound truth in the general conception should be added the technical perfection of the rendering, which leaves nothing to be desired, either in the relief of the figures, the imitation of texture in the costumes, or the interpretation of the peculiar effect of chiaro- scuro resulting from the blending of subdued day- light with the light of the candles. The picture of which I have just been speaking was completed about 1880, and exhibited at the Turin exposition of that year. In the last few years Jacovacci has not been able to devote himself exclusively to work in his studio, since much of his time has been absorbed by his duties as director of the National Gallery of Modern Art at Rome. I may mention that since accepting this position he has exerted himself to improve the arrangement of the collection, and that in 1896 all the pictures, with the exception of those in the Palizzi room, were taken down from the walls and rehung according to a logical system of classification, bringing the works of the same school together and presenting the different schools in their chronological order.^ ^ The National Gallery is housed at present in the upper rooms of the building on the Via Nazionale which was constructed for the na- tional exposition of 1883. Owing to its comparatively recent founda- tion, — the nation itself is now barely thirty years old, — the gallery has at present very little to show for the art of the early part of the nine- teenth century, and the visitor need not expect to be able to form any RECENT PAINTERS. 419 Count Lemmo Rossi Scotti of Perugia may be properly regarded as belonging to the Roman group of artists by virtue of the fact that at the time of his birth (1848) the province of Umbria formed part of the pope’s dominions. Rossi Scotti also studied at Rome, and at one time occupied a studio in the artists’ quarter in the Via Margutta. One of the masters to whom he went for assistance in learning his art was Tommaso Minardi, the distinguished leader of the purists ; but the influence which this painter exercised over him was very slight and very evanescent. In his mature work Rossi Scotti has confined himself largely to two classes of subjects : glimpses of military life, and idyllic scenes in which nymphs, satyrs, and amazons are the actors ; and in neither of these is the influence of Minardi traceable. His military pictures show careful and successful study of out-of-door effects of light and idea of it from what he will see there. There are two small bozzetti of Camuccini’s famous pictures of the Death of Julius Caesar and the Death of Virginia, but they give only the most imperfect idea of the finished paintings and of course no idea whatever of Camuccini’s abilities as an artist. Of Landi, Camuccini’s great contemporary at Rome, and of Ben- venuti and Appiani, his contemporaries at Florence and Milan, the national collection has, I believe, nothing. Neither has it anything to show for the plastic art of the first half of the century, the epoch of Canova and his imitators and of the rising genius of Bartolini. The Commendatore Jacovacci has formed the idea of supplementing the lack by placing on exhibition, somewhere in the gallery, a collection of photographs of the best works of the earlier sculptors, and it is to be hoped that he will be able to realize his intention. The regulations of the gallery do not permit the introduction of casts. The collection of recent works of art is fairly good, although no one artist, with the ex- ception of Gemito, is represented by his bes-t productions. 420 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. color with results which resemble those made familiar by the work of Giovanni Fattori of Florence, and which have nothing in common with the style of the Roman master. Rossi Scotti’s work is full of vitality, and Minardi’s productions were conspicu- ously lacking in that quality. The Perugian artist paints horses with great success, and stops at no technical difficulties. The pulling and straining of the wearied animals, as they drag a heavy gun- carriage over an almost impossible road is skilfully rendered in one of his recent pictures ; and the des- perate struggle of the frightened animals to regain their foothold as they are pulled down a steep bank by the cannon to which they are attached is inter- preted with equal effectiveness in a large canvas now in the Royal Palace at Milan, representing an episode of the battle of Custoza. The painter seems to turn from these works to his scenes of Arcadian life because the latter present such an entire contrast to the stern facts recorded in the military pictures. Possibly he finds some satisfac- tion, also, in the opportunity which they furnish him to put in practice his skill in drawing and painting the nude, which is certainly exceptional. The picturesque chateau in which Rossi Scotti lives and works, in the environs of Perugia, fur- nishes many evidences of his taste as an artist, not inferior in interest to his easel-pictures. The great hall, with traceried windows and monumental fire- place, which does duty as a studio, is decorated RECENT PAINTERS. 421 above the high wainscoting with ingenious com- positions of figures in subdued colors, executed by Rossi Scotti himself, reproducing the archaic style of the middle ages ; and the vaulting of the chapel, reached by a descending flight of stone steps from the studio, has been covered by the same hand with frescos of the most sternly Pre-Raphaelite type, the counterpart of the Giottesque frescos in the not very distant church of S. Francesco at Assisi. A glance at these decorations furnishes convincing proof of the acuteness of the artist’s perceptions, and of the unusual powers of analysis which enable him to seize and reproduce with such unerring cer- tainty the characteristics of the art of any epoch. One or two of the Roman painters of our own time have exhibited a late development of Pre- Raphaelitism in the English sense of the term ; but this manifestation has been confined to artists who in their early instruction had no connection with the original Italian Pre-Raphaelites. An evidence of this tendency is furnished, for example, by the picture entitled The Funeral of Juliet, by Scipione Vannutelli, which now constitutes one of the treas- ures of the National Gallery of Modern Art at Rome ; but the author of this work (born at Rome in 1834) received his principal instruction in art from Karl Wurzinger — an Austrian artist who re- sided in Rome from 1847 to 1857 — and therefore grew up quite outside of the circle of Pre-Raphael- itism and purism. The picture just referred to 422 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. strongly resembles the work of the English Pre- Raphaelites in the character of the coloring, and also in the intensity of the expression. The canvas is of comparatively small dimensions, but contains many figures, all of them painted with much minute- ness of detail. Juliet is being borne to her burial on an open bier ; she is dressed in white and strewn with flowers ; the grim wall of a medimval Veronese church is seen behind the procession with a pictu- resque porch as the principal architectural feature ; and beyond the angle of the church a glimpse is had of the houses of the city, with an expanse of sky above. Leaning on the iron railing in the fore- ground is a figure which might have been painted by Burne-Jones, so closely does it resemble the style of that master in all essential particulars. In other works of Vannutelli the Pre-Raphaelite tendency is less manifest, though in all of his pictures he shows remarkable natural talent and unusual cultivation. His first great success was the painting representing the promenade of the Venetian nobility beneath the arcades of the Doge’s Palace, which was exhibited at Paris in 1864, and which was made the subject of a laudatory sonnet by Theophile Gautier. A still earlier work, now in the Brera Gallery, showing a single figure of a lady in a grayish blue dress against a dull crimson back- ground, furnishes conclusive proof that from the very beginning of his career Vannutelli produced a refined and unconventional form of art. His color RECENT PAINTERS. 423 effects are always novel, but at the same time quiet and harmonious, never crude or startling. It is very rarely that one finds an artistic endowment so fully rounded out on all sides, where the intellectual qualities are supported by such remarkable manual skill, and where color, form, and subject are all handled with the same faultless taste. Vannutelli died at Rome May 18, 1894. He had travelled in France, Holland, and Spain, and was more of a cosmopolitan in his tastes and tendencies than the majority of the artists among whom his early life had been passed.^ Some of the same tendencies toward the form of art developed in England by Rossetti and Burne- Jones, which were exhibited in the work of Vannu- telli, have since been manifested in a somewhat dif- ferent form in the work of a Roman artist of a younger generation, Giulio Aristide Sartorio (born in 1861), who has already made his name and talent favorably known to English and German connois- 1 One of Vannutelli’s contemporaries, Pio loris, who was born at Rome in 1843, attained much distinction as a genre-painter. He studied painting at the Academy of St. Luke in Rome, and afterward continued his studies at Florence. His first exhibition picture was en- titled Sunday Morning outside the Porta del Popolo at Rome, and earned its author a gold medal at the Munich exhibition of 1869. He also obtained medals at Vienna in 1873 at Paris in 1875, the picture which procured him this last honor representing a dealer in antiquities at Toledo. Other successes followed at other exhibitions, a medal being awarded to him at the Naples exposition of 1877 for his picture entitled After the Benediction, and his large picture representing the flight of Pope Eugenius IV, exhibited at the Roman exposition of 1883, being purchased by the government for the National Gallery. 424 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. seurs. Diego Angeli, who has examined the draw- ings and sketches made during the formative period of Sartorio’s career, says that they show “ patient and laborious research ” and “ loving study of nat- ure and the old masters.” He adds that the greater part of the painter’s youth was “ passed in long rambles over the Roman Campagna and in labori- ous work in the galleries ; rambles which bore fruit in many drawings and studies which contributed much to perfect his rare innate sense of form. . . . Some of these drawings are of trunks of trees and bits of landscape, others are profiles done in a manner worthy of Da Vinci ; still others are studies of in- terlacing branches or of details of the human fig- ure: all exhibit an unusual firmness of touch and indicate a singularly complete grasp of the subject which he is undertaking to reproduce.” Sartorio himself, upon a review of his early studies and of his whole early life, feels that he suffered greatly from lack of encouragement, declaring that none of the prizes and pensions which the academies, the municipalities, and the government distributed to art students with a prodigal hand to help them along their rather difficult road ever fell to his share, and that he was obliged to make his way by his. own independent efforts without assistance or encouragement from any quarter. In 1 88 1 he painted a picture to which he gave a Latin title, Dtun Roina consulihir 7 norbus hnpe- rat, and in which he embodied some of the results RECENT PAINTERS. 425 of his studies and observations in the Campagna. It represented an open landscape in the malaria- stricken region about Rome, with a mother weep- ing beside the dead body of her son. This is the earliest picture which Sartorio mentions in the list of his works, and is probably the first picture which he regards as of any special importance. It was exhibited at the national exposition held at Rome in 1883, and is now owned in South Amer- ica. The artist was at this time evidently inclining toward subjects taken from the life immediately about him, and showed that he felt the influence of the general Italian tendency toward a natural- istic form of art. In 1884 he received a commis- sion to decorate some rooms in a Roman house with paintings and stucco-reliefs, and made a jour- ney to Fontainebleau to obtain suggestions for his work. The scheme of decoration was duly carried out, but the pictures were subsequently removed from their places, so that the labor and thought ex- pended in their preparation were wholly lost. From this time until the date of his journey to Paris in 1889, when, as he says, “all my views of art under- went a radical change,” he supported himself by painting small canvases for the picture-dealers, in the style made popular by Fortuny while that clever artist was living and working at Rome ; pictures in which the story told or the idea conveyed was of the slightest possible consequence, and in which such value as the work possessed lay in the pictu- 426 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. resqueness of the costumes and accessories and the brilliancy of the coloring. Sartorio’s visit to Paris in 1889, the visit which first brought him into face-to-face contact with the work of the English Pre-Raphaelites, was made in company with Michetti, who found the young Ro- man artist at work in Umbria, and who generously assumed all the expenses of the joint expedition. Upon their arrival at the French capital they found the international exposition in progress, and the young Roman painter had an unrivalled opportu- nity, not only to observe what contemporary French artists were doing, but to acquaint himself gener- ally with the whole contemporary European aes- thetic movement. “ I then saw for the first time,” he says, “the works of Watts, of Burne-Jones, and of Millais.” He afterward visited London and made a careful study of the pictures of the Eng- lish Pre-Raphaelites, extending his journey to Liv- erpool on purpose to see Rossetti’s Dante’s Dream. “ Standing in the presence of this painting,” Sar- torio afterward wrote, “ I could enter into the spirit of the remark made by an English artist, that fifty years hence this would be regarded as one of the half-dozen supreme pictures of the world.” His ex- amination of the work of the English Pre-Raphael- ites was, I think, made with the definite intention of writing about them, and in 1895 two extended papers devoted to a review of their work appeared over his signature in one of the Roman art-periodi- RECENT PAINTERS. 427 cals. Despite the particular sympathy which the writer would naturally have felt for Rossetti, he was able to do justice to the remarkable cesthetic endowment of Burne-Jones, declaring that the lat- ter “ had inherited the living and Italian part of Rossetti’s genius ” and had “ opened even more widely the horizons of a spiritual, refined, and stir- ring form of art.” The series of paintings in which Sartorio first introduced his tall and slender figures of women, with backgrounds of Byzantine architecture and accessories decorated with mosaics in the style of the Cosmati, dates from 1890. One of the earlier pictures, called Amor Sacro, now owned by Signor Carmel o Errico of Francavilla, may be described here as an example of the whole group. It repre- sents a young girl, half supporting herself against a chair in a church or chapel, her head bowed as if she were repeating some prayer or occupied with pious meditations. Her costume is a singular one, consisting of a full skirt which hangs closely to her figure, and a loose Dalmatic or tunic covered with rich embroideries, which is worn above it. The type of face is one which is often repeated in Sartorio s pictures, the cheeks being abnormally round and full, the lips drooping at the corners of the mouth like those of a child, the nose sug- gesting the lines of a Greek statue, the eyebrows delicately pencilled, the forehead low, and the hair soft and luxuriant. The accessories are all of 428 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. Byzantine or mediaeval character. Directly behind the figure is a gilded and jewelled shrine contain- ing a holy picture, the goldsmith’s work forming a border around the face. The other accessories are Roman work in the style of the Cosmati ; the pavement is a Cosmatesque mosaic, and the am- bon or pulpit, with the twisted columns at the corners, seen directly at the right of the figure, might have been copied from some original in one of the Roman churches. The composition as a whole, however, is clearly an invention of the artist, and not a study of any actual interior. With little question the most admired as well as the best known of Sartorio’s pictures is the Madonna of the Angels, which has been exhibited several times in Italy, the last time at the inter- national exposition at Venice in 1895. of course immediately suggests the Botticelli to 7 ido in the Uffizi, but, upon a comparison of the two paintings, a multitude of differences immediately become apparent. In Botticelli’s picture, the Ma- donna holds the Child in her lap, and is at the same time dipping a pen in ink, as if about to write in the open book beside her. In Sartorio’s picture the position and action of both of the principal figures are different; the faces are all younger, the features less firmly modelled, and the expressions less pronounced. There . are certain similarities of type in the full lips and the large eyes ; but in the modern picture the faces are MADONNA OF THE ANGELS FROM THE PAINTING V.Y SARTORIO \ ' _ 4 Uj-v r, f . ' .y.x‘ ■1 RECENT PAINTERS. 429 rounder, the lips more child-like, the eyes more dreamy, and the hair softer and more abundant. In the accessories Sarto rio has again shown his fondness for the work of the Cosmati by covering the sides of the parapet on which the Child is seated with Cosmatesque mosaics. The dress which the Madonna wears is one which frequently appears in Sartorio’s pictures regardless of their subject, being used as the costume of the wise and foolish virgins in the triptych painted for Count Primoli, of the Gorgon in the allegorical painting exhibited at Venice in 1895, and even in some of his portraits. In the latter part of the year 1895 Sartorio ac- cepted an appointment as professor in the Acad- emy of Fine Arts at Weimar, and entered upon the performance of his new duties in the spring of 1896. Before concluding this brief review of his career, I should add that he is very skilful in the use of pastels, and that his landscape-studies in that medium have been much admired by con- noisseurs. Passing from the Roman to the Tuscan painters of this period we may properly commence with the school of Luigi Mussini, a master whose character- istics were considered in a previous chapter and who was classed by his contemporaries as a purist. In speaking of his works I have already mentioned his fondness for the style of the precursors of Raphael and the purely Pre-Raphaelite character of some of 430 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. his own productions. Some of his tendencies in this direction were impressed upon his pupils, but it would be a mistake to lay too much stress upon the Pre-Raphaelite qualities in the art which they produced, or to attempt to force them all into one category. In the case of one of his older pupils, Alessandro Franchi, we have certain repetitions of the style of the original Pre-Raphaelites in occa- sional religious pictures, and in the case of a much younger pupil, Ricciardo Meacci, we have an almost literal reproduction of the style of Burne-Jones ; but, in general, the only tendency exhibited by Mussini himself which we can count with certainty upon finding in the productions of his pupils is the ten- dency to insist upon accurate drawing as a funda- mental requisite in a work of art. The painters of the school of Mussini have been, during the last twenty-five years, almost the only artists in Italy who — considered collectively and as a group — have practised a rigorous system of drawing, and maintained, in this particular, the high standard furnished by the work of the great master of the renaissance. Amos Cassioli, who came to the Siena Academy from the little town of Asciano in 1851, the very year in which Mussini assumed the direction of the school, proved to be one of the latter’s best pupils. Cassioli afterward studied at Rome, supported by a pension granted to him by the Grand Duke of Tus- cany, and about 1862 established himself at Flor- RECENT PAINTERS. 431 ence, wh*ch he made his home until his death in 1891 (December 17). His first important work was the picture now in the Academy at Florence, repre- senting the Battle of Legnano, a vast canvas intro- ducino^ a multitude of figures in excited action. The original cartoon of this work is now in the posses- sion of the painter’s son, Giuseppe Cassioli,^ filling one wall of the latter’s studio in the Via Ghibellina at Florence, and a very slight examination of it is sufficient to satisfy the observer that the elder Cas- sioli’s expertness with the pencil was truly remark- able. Another interesting early work by the same artist, now hanging in the state dining-room of the Saracini Palace at Siena, and representing Lorenzo de’ Medici exhibiting his jewels to the Duke of Milan, furnishes additional evidence of its author’s complete mastery of the art of drawing. This par- ticular picture, which would be classified as histori- cal genre, forms the first of a long series of similar canvases — not all of them equally elaborate, but all exhibiting a general similarity of style — which Cassioli made it the work of his life to produce. Several of the paintings in this series became im- 1 Giuseppe Cassioli studied painting under his father, but has recently devoted himself principally to sculpture. A few years ago he received the commission for the bronze doors for one of the portals in the modern fagade of the cathedral at Florence, and devoted much atten- tion to the work, super\*ising it at every stage down to the final cast- ing. This particular task was one which he was peculiarly qualified to execute, because it gave him an opportunity to exhibit his skill both as a painter and a sculptor, the decorations of the doors being quite as much pictorial as sculptural. 432 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. mediately popular and have been made familiar by photographs ; for example, the scene between the two lovers, Francesca da Rimini and Paolo Mala- testa at the moment of the fatal kiss ; and the mediaeval interior in which Boccaccio is reciting his stories to a picturesquely disposed audience wearing the quaint costumes of the middle ages. More than two hundred pictures of this class, all of them highly finished, were painted by the artist be- tween 1870 and 1890, and the greater number of them were sold to foreign purchasers. In all of them the drawing is good, but the coloring of the earlier ones is of a style which passed somewhat into disfavor in Italy after the work of the bril- liant colorists of the younger Neapolitan school had come to be generally known. The general change to which the art of the whole of Italy was subjected as an inevitable result of the popularity of the Neapolitan ideas, promptly produced its effect on the sensitive organism of Cassioli, and in his later works he abandoned almost entirely the sombreness of tone which had characterized his earlier productions. I need only refer the reader, in proof of this statement, to the excellent color- design which he prepared between 1880 and 1887 for one of the lunettes above the portals of the modern fa9ade of the cathedral at Florence, and which is now to be seen in the Cathedral Museum. This design presents a perfectly modern scheme of color, strong, clear, and brilliant, resembling in char- RECENT PAINTERS. 433 acter the best work of Jean Paul Laurens. The composition is also very ingenious, the taller figures being placed at the outer edges of the lunette in- stead of in the centre, thus avoiding the pyramidal form which has been rendered tiresome by so many repetitions. Mussini’s favorite pupil, Alessandro Franchi, was a native of Prato, where he was born March 1 5, 1838, and first came to Siena in 1852, being drawn there by Mussini’s reputation as a teacher. His whole art-education was received under the latter’s supervision, and after his apprenticeship was com- pleted he decided to make Siena his home, and has resided there ever since, making the bond between himself and his master still closer by marrying one of Mussini’s daughters. Franchi’s best work is the series of graffiti forming part of the decoration of the pavement of the cathedral at Siena, work which exhibits to the very best advantage his remarkable skill in drawing. Instead of ornamenting the floor of the church with geometrical patterns in colored marbles, the original builders invented a novel scheme of decoration, presenting the appearance of etching upon white marble, — the effect being produced by channelling the lines with a sharp point, and filling them in with black cement. In the course of time some of the compartments of the pavement, which were in particularly exposed positions, were worn down below the level of the engraving and the design destroyed ; and it was to 434 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. replace three of the large hexagonal divisions directly beneath the dome that Franchi’s services were called into requisition. The subjects which he chose were, of course, scriptural, two of them being taken from the story of Ahab, and the third representing Elijah borne to heaven in the chariot of fire. All three of the designs are composed in a dignified style, con- forming to the traditions of the best period of Italian art ; and yet they are at the same time full of vital- ity, and entirely free from any trace of formula. In the matter of execution their distinguishing merit is the absence of superfluous lines. Not a single channelling of the marble is superfluous, and not one could be omitted without lessening the effective- ness of the work. Mussini took great pride in these graffiti, and made them the subject of a formal communication to the French Institute in January, 1877. Unfortunately for their general enjoyment by the public, they are concealed from view during the greater part of the year in order to protect them from damage, the coverings being removed only at the time of the feast of the As- sumption and other great religious festivals.^ 1 Franchi is the author of a number of other works, among which may be mentioned the frescos in the chapel of the Crucifix in the cathedral at Prato, the Presentation of the Virgin at the Temple, a mosaic filling one of the gables of the principal front of the cathedral at Siena, some mosaics and a fresco at the Gastello di Brolio near Siena, the frescos in the chapel of the Conti Raffo di Tunisi in the Siena Camposanto, various pictures in the oratory attached to the Istituto S. Teresa, two frescos in the Sala Vittorio Emanuele in the Town Hall, and a series of frescos in the oratory in the house of St. Catherine RECENT PAINTERS. 435 Cesare Maccari, who studied for several years under Mussini at the Siena Academy, has exhibited in his mature work the same remarkable skill in drawing which distinguishes the productions of the other pupils of that master. Maccari was born at Siena May 8, 1840, and acquired the elements of a general education at one of the Sienese schools, the Collegio Tolomei. When he was fifteen years old, he commenced to study sculpture under Tito Sarrocchi, who had then recently resumed his resi- dence at Siena after learning his art in the studio of Dupre at Florence ; and while with Sarrocchi the young Maccari shared in the execution of one or two of Sarrocchi’s works, among them being the Pianigiani monument in the church of S. Domenico. In 1863 he decided to abandon the study of sculpt- ure and commenced the study of painting under Mussini, continuing to work under the latters direction until 1867, when he received a pension from a Sienese fund established for the encourage- ment of art students, and set out to visit other parts of Italy. Finding the environment of Rome congenial to him he settled there upon the expira- tion of his pension, and has made that city his home ever since. Maccari’s remarkable skill in drawing is coupled with unusual taste in color. This latter quality did not come immediately to the surface in his earlier at Siena. After Alussini’s death he was appointed professor of painting at the Siena Academy and still holds that position. 436 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. works, the picture of Sira and Fabiola, now in the Saracini collection at Siena, being somewhat som- bre in tone. Very soon after the date of this picture, which was painted in 1870, his manner underwent a marked change. The clever frescos in the church of the Sudario at Rome, painted be- tween 1870 and 1880, are executed in a style widely different from that of his early productions, so far as the coloring is concerned ; and the large oil painting, representing the Deposition of Pope Sil- verius, first exhibited in 1880 at Turin and now in the Gallery of Modern Art in that city, is so differ- ent from the Sira and Fabiola as to seem almost revolutionary beside it. Maccari also gave evi- dence of the remarkable pliability of his talent in the small genre-pictures which were produced during the decade between 1870 and 1880, a class of work for which he could certainly have found no precedent in the whole range of Mussini’s produc- tion. One of these, entitled II mandolmista^ repre- sents a picturesque interior, furnished and decorated with Persian rugs, majolica plaques, and other ac- cessories favored by the school of Fortuny, and introduces as the actors in the scene a mandolin- player and two other figures attired in rich seven- teenth century costumes. Other pictures of the same class, such as the Visit and the Fortune-teller, are identical in style and differ only in subject. Very few modern painters have a talent which is at the same time so solid and brilliant as Maccari’s, RECENT PAINTERS. 437 enabling him at one moment to execute a mural painting satisfying the highest requirements of that difficult form of art, and at the next to produce an aquarelle in which the conspicuous merits are the simple anecdotic character of the subject and the airy grace of the rendering. Among Maccaris works in fresco the most wholly successful, considering not merely the pict- ures themselves but their harmony with their sur- roundings, are the decorations executed between 1 88 1 and 1888 in the state reception-room of the Palazzo del Senato at Rome. The palace now designated by that name, and now appropriated for the uses of the upper branch of the Italian parlia- ment, was formerly a private residence known as the Palazzo Madama ; and when it was first util- ized for its present purpose, very little was immedi- ately done by way of accommodating it to the wants of the senate beyond constructing a semicircular theatre for its sessions in one of the courtyards. Prior to 1880, however, the project was brought forward of decorating the reception-room, an apart- ment directly over the central entrance, formerly known as the Sala Gialla, with historical frescos ; and after several competitions between different artists the designs of Maccari were selected, and the commission w^as assigned to him. The subjects chosen for the frescos on the three principal walls w^ere the Departure of Regulus, the Entry of Appius Claudius Cmcus into the Senate, and the Denuncia- 438 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. tion of Catiline by Cicero. There are also some small panels between the windows which cannot be advantageously seen except when the room is artifi- cially lighted. Maccari was occupied in the prep- aration of the cartoons and in the painting of the frescos for about seven years, the work having been completed and accepted by the government Octo- ber 24, 1888. The cartoons were very fine exam- ples of drawing, and Morelli urged their purchase by the Italian government ; but before the proper officials had reached the point of making an offer to the artist, they had already been sold to an American purchaser. Photographs of these car- toons, giving some idea of the great merit of the originals and of the amount of labor which the artist must have expended upon them, may be seen in Maccari’s studio at Rome. Of the three great historical pictures which deco- rate the walls the most popular is unquestionably the one representing Cicero denouncing Catiline for his conspiracies against the state. Maccari took great pains with this work. He caused a large model of the seats of the senate to be con- structed and placed in his studio, so that he could be surer of his effects of perspective and, in general, secure greater accuracy in the details of the com- position. All of the principal figures were studied from life, and many of the faces are portraits of con- temporary Italians of note, some of them being members of the present Italian senate. The face RECENT PAINTERS. 439 of Catiline is not a portrait but an ideal head which Maccari composed according to his conception of what the character demanded, guiding himself to some extent by the antique, but modifying the type to suit the needs of the case. If the artist had painted a more apathetic Catiline, he would prob- ably have conformed more closely to actual historic fact, but he would have greatly diminished the dra- matic force of the picture. Very likely the real Catiline would have felt too much pride to show himself in the contorted attitude in which Maccari has represented him, with his bony fingers clutch- ing his knees like the claws of a vulture ; but it is easy to see how much the effect of the scene would have been lowered if the arch-conspirator had lis- tened to Cicero’s invectives wnth an air of stolid indifference, and how relatively insipid the whole picture would have become. In almost all particu- lars, where not compelled by cesthetic reasons to choose a different course, Maccari took pains to make his work conform to the historical probabili- ties, placing the greater number of senators, for example, in a group apart from Catiline, in obedi- ence to the suggestion contained in the words. Quid, quod adventu tuo ista subsellia vacuefacta sunt, quod omnes consulares . . . simul atque as- sedisti partem istam subselliorum nudam atque inanem reliquerunt, uttered by Cicero in the first oration. The photographs of this fresco convey a very good idea of its merits, because the drawing 440 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. and composition count for so much more in the effect than the color. Indeed there is very little positive color in the picture except in the brick pavement, which is in soft tones of terra-cotta. In the great picture on the opposite wall, repre- senting the entry of Appius Claudius into the Roman Senate, the faces seem somewhat more modern. The head of the blind old statesman himself, although magnificently painted, does not strike one as being of a very pronounced Latin type, and the faces of some of the men in his suite, more particularly of the young man at his right, is so much like a very common type of our own time as. to seem almost out of place in a work of this character. Following a precedent established by some of the great painters of the sixteenth century, Maccari has ventured to intro- duce the portrait of himself and of his master, Mussini, among the by-standers, their faces being distinguishable in the background at the right, near the pilaster which defines the angle between the vestibule and the larger audience-room of the senate. Maccari has represented himself as he must have looked when about forty years of age, and Mussini is represented as an old man with gray hair and beard. Before concluding what is to be said of the decorations of this room, I should add that the ceiling is also by Maccari, and that he not only painted the allegorical scenes which fill the RECENT PAINTERS. 441 various compartments, but designed all the cor- nices and relief work.^ The most important works in fresco undertaken by Maccari since 1888 are the decorations in the dome of the church of the Casa Santa at Loreto, which he commenced in the latter part of that year and completed in 1897. The artists pre- liminary sketches for this great work were made in two small domes constructed of wood, which he caused to be prepared for the purpose, and which were preserved for some time in one of the large rooms of his studio at Rome. The scheme of decoration which he finally settled upon involved the painting of eight large semicircular composi- tions at the base of each of the eight divisions of the dome, and of a continuous zone of angels, which surrounds the dome half-way between the base and the lantern, and which is carried over the projecting ribs by ingeniously building up the angles with plaster in such a manner as to prevent any break in the continuity of the figures. The 1 While engaged in painting the senate frescos Alaccari found time to execute a few other works, and among them several frescos in his native city, Siena. Sometime prior to 1886 the Sienese municipal council decided to have one of the large halls in the old Gothic Pa- lazzo Pubblico decorated with a series of frescos in honor of Victor Emmanuel, and invited Mussini to undertake or assume the direction of this work. Mussini declined on the plea of advanced years, and, possibly at his suggestion, the commissions were divided among his pupils. Maccari painted two of the frescos, and others were executed by Cassioli. Franchi. Meacci. and Ridolfi. The decorations, as a whole, do not reach a very high degree of merit, regarded as works of art, and are principally significant of the patriotism of the Sienese. 442 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. large semicircular pictures at the base of the dome are by far the most important elements in the deco- ration, each forming a beautiful tableau, composed with great taste, drawn with much skill, and pre- senting a brilliant and novel scheme of coloring. In subject they present groups of characters taken from religious history, one compartment bringing together the prophets, another the martyrs of the church, and so on. It cannot be said that there is anything Pre-Raphaelite in the character of this decoration, although the architecture of the church demanded the use of a pre-renaissance style. Mac- cari evidently felt tempted to produce a work which should bear its own stamp of beauty, and decided not to imitate an archaic form of art, a decision which those who wish to see the decorations of a historic edifice correspond with its architecture cannot but deprecate. Some of the other artists who have taken part in the decoration of the church of the Casa Santa have made an effort to imitate the style of the original Pre-Raphaelites, this tendency being dis- tinctly noticeable in the work of Modesto Faustini, the author of the frescos representing scenes from the life of St. Joseph in one of the lateral chapels, and in the extensive and elaborate decorations which have been executed by Ludwig Seitz in the apse. Between i860 and 1870 the most eminent of the Florentine historical painters was Stefano Ussi, the RECENT PAINTERS. 443 author of the great picture representing the abdica- tion of the Duke of Athens which was accorded a grande medaille d’honneur at the universal exposi- tion held at Paris in 1867, and which now hangs in Room II of the Gallery of Modern Art in the Academy at Florence. Ussi was born September 3, 1822, and studied at Florence under Enrico Pol- lastrini, the unsuccessful rival of Luigi Mussini for the directorship of the Academy of Fine Arts at Siena. At the outbreak of the war against Austria in 1848 he enlisted in one of the companies of Tus- can volunteers, was made prisoner after the battle of Montanara, and confined for five months at There- sienstadt in Hungary. In 1854 he obtained a pen- sion for art study at Rome, and remained there until the fall of the grand-ducal government at Florence in 1859, occupying himself principally during the latter part of the time in painting the picture above referred to, the Italian name of which is La Cacciata del Ditca d'Alene di Firenze, or lire Expulsion of the Duke of Athens from Flor- ence — the Duke of Athens being an adventurer who succeeded in making himself master of Flor- ence in 1342, and who made his rule odious by many acts of cruelty and treachery. The picture, which contains many life-size figures, was com- pleted in December, 1859, and was exhibited with great success at Florence during the following year. It seems more appropriate to speak of the sub- ject of this work as the Abdication of the Duke of 444 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. Athens, inasmuch as the tyrant is represented in the act of signing a document by which he agrees to give up the sovereignty of the city, and not in the act of being driven from his palace into the streets or out of the gates. The scene is represented as occurring in one of the rooms of the Palazzo Vec- chio, with the towers of old Florence, a characteristic feature of the mediaeval city, visible through one of the windows in the background. The duke, whose real name was Walter of Brienne, sits at a table in the middle of the apartment, and one of the soldiers of his Burgundian body-guard, who realizes more than his master the extremity to which they are reduced, urges him to affix his signature to the document. At the duke’s right stands Cerretieri, one of his ministers of wickedness, and facing him are two representatives of the people of Florence, — the archbishop and the captain of the people, — who are dictating the terms of surrender. Two of the duke’s agents, Guglielmo da Scesi and his son, have already been sacrificed to the fury of the populace, and are being thrust out of the door at the left. This picture must be regarded as a progressive work, considering the conditions under which it was produced. When Ussi first arrived at Rome comparatively little was known there of the ad- vanced theories of the Neapolitan school, and the ideas of which Minardi and Podesti were represen- tatives still remained dominant. Measured by the RECENT PAINTERS. 445 standard offered by the work of these men, Ussi showed much progress as a colorist and also as a student of nature. One may say more broadly that he showed progress as a student of facts, for he took great pains to inform himself as to the history of the incident which he was to paint, and to make it, so far as he could, a faithful portrayal of the scene as it actually occurred. Measured by modern stand- ards the work seems much idealized, more particu- larly in the careful arrangement of the figures and accessories so as to produce the best effect viewed from the front, and in the scrupulous nicety and freshness of all the costumes ; but measured by the standards of 1855 it was a realistic rather than an idealistic work. After completing this painting Ussi made a journey to Egypt, and upon his return painted a number of pictures in which he utilized the material collected during his Eastern tour. He did not suc- ceed, however, in making his mark as an orientalist, and cannot be ranked so high as Pasini as a delinea- tor of Eastern life. The portion of his work which will be most admired by posterity will, with little question, be that part in which he remained faithful to the principles of art which he had learned in his youth, and of which he obtained nearly a complete mastery. Among his other works which are now in public collections may be mentioned the fine portrait of the poet Niccolini in the Academy of Fine Arts at Florence, the replica of the same 446 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. work at the Brera, the portrait of the painter him- self in the Uffizi Gallery showing him as he ap- peared in 1867 when he had just been made famous by the award of the Paris jury, and the large paint- ing representing Machiavelli in his studio (1894) which is now in the National Gallery at Rome. The best of these works is the portrait of Niccolini, a fine likeness of a remarkable man, showing with great success the energy, courage, and intellectual power which were the leading traits of his character. More strikingly novel work than that of Ussi was being produced during the same period by Telemaco Signorini, a painter who was born at Florence August 18, 1835. According to Camillo Boito, Signorini felt drawn, as a young man, toward the vocation of a writer; but in deference to the wishes of his father adopted the career of a painter, and found in the canals and piazzas of Venice the first subjects which appealed to his imagination — subjects which he rendered in a novel and original, not to say eccentric and extravagant, manner. In 1859 he served in the Italian army during the war with Austria, and in 1861 made his first journey abroad, passing some time in Paris. Subsequently he visited Paris and London again and also travelled in other parts of Great Britain, finding subjects for his pencil in Edinburgh and in other Scotch cities. Signorini’s mature work conforms to the modern manner of treating street scenes which has been made familiar by many French and English artists. RECENT PAINTERS. 447 He has naturally abandoned the methods which were adopted by Italian painters of similar subjects prior to 1870, and has made a frank attempt to paint the thoroughfares of London, Edinburgh, and Florence in their natural colors, with their natural lights and shadows and with the hurrying throng of pedestrians and vehicles precisely as they appear in real life. The qualities of his work which show his exceptional talent as an artist are the accuracy of his effects and the ingenious selection of his subjects. Among the other Tuscan artists who came under the influence of the new movement were two paint- ers from Leghorn, Giovanni Fattori and Vittorio Corcos. The former, who was of the same genera- tion as Stefano Ussi, was born in 1828 and studied first at Leghorn, and afterward under Bezzuoli at Florence. I find no mention of his early pictures produced while he was working under conservative masters, but doubtless they resembled those of the other pupils of the Florence Academy. Com- ing under the influence of the school of Morelli about i860 he was led to adopt a new style, and by the success of a picture entitled the Battle of Magenta was induced to make a specialty of mili- tary subjects. Fattori has painted soldiers in every possible aspect, — in battle and in bivouac, in camp and on parade. His style is the prototype of that of Rossi Scotti, being perfectly true to nature in color and in light and shade, and showing no traces 448 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. of academic training except perhaps in the accurate drawing and grouping of the figures. Vittorio Corcos, who was born at Leghorn in 1859, re- sembles Fattori in no particular except in the rejection of all of the principles which governed Italian art in the middle of the present century. He studied under Morelli at Naples and subse- quently, between 1880 and 1886, lived and worked at Paris, making a specialty of portraits and of genre-scenes from modern life. Corcos has also occasionally resided for longer or shorter periods at Florence, and in 1892 or earlier painted there an excellent portrait of the distinguished poet Giosue Carducci. There are several other artists resident at Flor- ence who have practised genre-painting with a high degree of success. Francesco Vinea is one of these men, and the picture entitled A Visit to Grand- mamma is a good example of his work. Great pains are expended upon the tapestries and marbles of the stately apartment in which the scene is represented as taking place ; but the figures are also well painted, showing that the artist’s skill is not by any means limited to the clever rendering of still-life. Vinea was born at Forli in 1846 and studied art at Florence under Enrico Pollastrini. His early life was embittered by many hardships ; and it was not until after he had wasted considerable valuable time in attempting to earn his living by working as an assistant to a photographer, and subsequently RECENT PAINTERS. 449 as a draughtsman for the illustrated papers, that he decided to devote himself to the form of art which he has since followed with so much success. Tito Lessi, another contemporary Italian genre-painter, whose work has been highly commended by foreign critics, served his art-apprenticeship in Florence, but has recently established himself in Paris and severed his immediate connection with his Italian colleagues.^ Lessi was preceded by many years, in his emi- gration to Paris, by Alberto Pasini, an artist born at Busseto in the Duchy of Parma September 3, 1826, who established himself at the French capital in 1851, and has since practised his art there with great success, making a specialty of scenes of East- ern life, and taking the highest stand as an orien- talist of any Italian artist of this century. Before leaving Italy Pasini received a regular course of instruction in historical painting at the Parma Academy, and doubtless owes to this early training something of the skill which he has always exhib- ited in drawing and painting the figure ; although his style of figure-painting is as unacademic as possible, and the role which figures play in his should perhaps speak, in this same connection, of Federigo Soulacroix of Florence and Paolo Bedini of Bologna, both of them genre-painters of exceptional talent, the subjects which they select being as a rule taken from the social life of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. Like Vinea they show much skill in the paint- ing of the figure, and unusual taste in the selection and combination of accessories. 450 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. works is usually one of minor importance. He also acquired a practical knowledge of the processes of lithography before leaving Parma, and supported himself by practising this art during his first years at Paris, entering the atelier of Eugene Ciceri in the capacity of assistant, and remaining with him until 1853 or 1854. He did not attempt, during this period, to pursue a course of studies at the Ecole des Beaux-Arts, or to enter the studio of any of the then recognized masters in painting; but greatly admired the work of Theodore Rousseau, Jules Dupre, Corot, and Daubigny, particularly the work of Rousseau ; and if it had not been for his sub- sequent journey to Persia, and the fascination exer- cised over him by the novel scenes to which he was then introduced, he might perhaps have produced a form of art similar to that of the Barbison school. Before leaving Ciceri’s atelier he produced a few original lithographs, among them a Sunset, studied from nature, which was accepted at the Salon. In 1855 Pasini was invited by Prosper Bourree to accompany the latter on his embassy to Persia, and this journey gave him the opportunity of his life for accumulating valuable original art-material. Bourree was the ambassador appointed by Napoleon III to visit the Shah for the purpose of prevent- ing him, if possible, from intervening in the war which was then in progress between Russia and the powers of western Europe. The journey to Persia was made by way of Egypt, as the Eastern complica- RECENT PAINTERS. 451 tions made it impossible to select the more natural route via Constantinople. In this way Pasini was given a sight of other countries than Persia, and utilized his rare opportunity to the utmost by making innumerable sketches. Once during his year’s sojourn in Persia he was invited by the sov- ereign to make a journey with him to a distant province, and in this way obtained certain art- material which the ordinary traveller in the East could not have secured. The expedition returned in the summer of 1856 by way of Armenia and Constantinople, reaching France in August. The Royal Gallery at Parma possesses one of the most interesting of what may be termed the early fruits of this journey in the shape of a drawing in black and white crayon on yellow paper, representing a troop of horsemen making their way down a rocky defile. The picture is signed Armenia, A. Pasini, 1856, and was probably made while the impression of some actual scene, of the character of the one represented, was fresh in the artist’s mind. It is clear that in making the drawing he was working more in the spirit of a lithographer than a painter; but if more lithographs were like this, we could well do without many inferior paintings. A number of Pasini’s early works in oil, reflect- ing his oriental experiences, are to be found in Italian galleries. There are several in the Gallery of Modern Art at Turin, among them a small can- vas painted in 1862, containing a single figure — 452 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. that of a camel driver mounted upon a camel — in which both the animal and his rider are drawn with a clever touch, revealing a singularly acute perception of the essential lines of a very difficult pose. The picture is called the Courier of the Desert, and the awkward beast is clearly making the utmost speed of which his sprawling limbs are capable under the lash of his cruel driver. The Gallery of Modern Art at Florence (in the Academy) contains another Eastern picture by Pasini, painted in 1864; and the Royal Gallery at Parma has a large picture of the same date representing a Per- sian caravan striking its tents for the day’s journey just as the sky begins to grow light in the east, which is the choicest modern work in the Parma collection. At a little distance this picture simply shows two bands of color, a zone of bluish black across the lower part of the canvas, and of bluish gray across the upper part ; but upon closer in- spection the blue of the lower level resolves itself into the figures of men and beasts of burden getting ready for the day’s march under the shadow of a great bluff, and the lighter zone above shows an expanse of sky lighted by the first pale rays of the rising sun. After his first oriental journey Pasini revisited the East several times, seeing Constantinople a second time in 1868 and a third time in 1869. In 1873 a still more extended journey took him to Asia Minor and Syria, and resulted in the collec- RECENT PAINTERS. 453 tion of a large number of new sketches and studies. His work, which approved itself from the first to the most exacting public in Europe, continued to grow steadily in favor, the third-class medal which he received at the Salon of 1859 being followed by a second-class medal in 1863 and a first-class medal in 1864. In 1868 he was made Chevalier, and in 1878 Official, of the Legion of Honor, and his works at the universal exposition of 1878 were deemed worthy of the exceptional recognition of a grand medal of honor. Since 1878 Pasini has not confined himself to oriental subjects, though he still continues to paint them. Between 1878 and 1885 he made repeated visits to Venice and found the inspiration for many charming works in the city of the lagoons. In 1879, and again in 1883, he visited Spain with Gerome, still farther enlarging his repertory of subjects. Some interesting examples of the work which he did at Venice will be found in the Na- tional Gallery at Rome, and in the Gallery of Modern Art at Turin, and the latter gallery also possesses a souvenir of his Spanish pilgrimages in the shape of a study of a portion of the Alhambra. Pasini s coloring is distinguished by its clearness. Whether the tones which he employs are gay or sombre, the various tints are kept distinctly apart and are not allowed to run into each other. In surface his work often resembles fine enamel. He has it in his power to put a minute finish upon his 454 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. figures, but rarely does so, preferring a clever ap- proximation, which at a distance of a few feet pro- duces the effect of minutely finished work. He has occasionally painted portraits, and among them may be mentioned the striking likeness of himself, now in the room devoted to portraits of painters at the Uffizi Gallery. That his Italian compatriots have not forgotten him, is shown by the circum- stance of his having been invited to contribute this auto-portrait to the collection at the Uffizi; and that he has not forgotten Italy, despite his long residence in Paris, is shown by his habit of passing a portion of each year, usually the late summer and autumn, at a villa which he purchased in 1870 or 1871 in the environs of Turin. Between Alberto Pasini and Giovanni Muzzioli, the last artist whom I shall mention in this chapter, there is no connection except the simple circum- stance that both came from the same section of Italy. In style their works are widely different, inasmuch as Muzzioli always made figure-painting his specialty, and never devoted any attention to landscape except as an incidental feature in his work. The pictures upon which Muzzioli’s reputa- tion principally rests are those painted in the style of Alma Tadema, an artist whose influence over the young Italian is distinctly perceptible in most of his later productions. It cannot be said that Muzzioli ever rose quite to the level attained by Alma Tadema in the latter’s most admired pictures, but RECENT PAINTERS. 455 he had an equal fondness for Greco-Roman acces- sories, painted marbles with great skill, and was in all respects a highly accomplished technician. Muzzioli passed all his early life at Modena, where he was born February lo, 1854. He com- menced to study art at the local academy in 1867 when he was thirteen years old, and speedily ac- quired the reputation of being a youthful prodigy, which indeed he was. In 1871 he entered the com- petition for the Poletti pension, entitling the winner to four years’ residence at Rome and Florence, and, although only seventeen at the time, was unani- mously awarded the prize by the board of judges. After working at Rome from 1872 to 1875 he removed to the Tuscan capital; and soon after his return to Modena, at the expiration of his pension in 1876, received the commission from the Della Valle family for the large picture representing the Magdalen at the moment when she first becomes aware of the presence of Christ, which he ex- hibited at Turin in 1880, and which is now in the possession of Don Luigi Della Valle. All of this portion of Muzzioli’s work and study was simply a prelude to his serious and successful career which began with the exhibition of the Tem- ple of Bacchus at Milan in 1881, and which received its vital impulse from the admiration conceived by the young artist for the work of Alma Tadema, said to have been brouo;ht to his notice at the time of the Paris exposition of 1878. The important 456 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. picture of i88i was commissioned by the Cavaliere Diena of Modena and is now owned by his son, Dr. Emilio Diena. It represents the interior of a Roman temple dedicated to the worship of the god of revelry, and the principal feature in the com- position is an immense wine jar, which Muzzioli’s quick imagination seized upon as a more fit emblem of the spirit of the place than the statue of the god himself — this last being relegated to a niche in the background. The size of the jar impresses the ob- server as phenomenal; but the painter assured the Cavaliere Diena that he found its prototype at Pompeii, and sketched it on the spot. The color- ing of the picture is in remarkably good taste, very few tints being introduced. The reveller brandish- ing the thyrsus wears skirts of dull red and olive green beneath the leopard skin, and her companion, who lies helpless on the pedestal of the enormous jar, is swathed in white draperies. The jar itself is of an exquisite tint of rosy terra-cotta, verging upon a pearly white in the high lights. The chalky, opaque surface is rendered with remarkable truth, and the marbles are also painted with equal skill. It is, however, unnecessary to dwell upon the minor perfections of the work, since the finished character of the technique is made apparent by the illustration. Without enlarging upon the subsequent work of Muzzioli in detail, it will be suificient to say that he continued to paint pictures in the style of IX THE TEMPLE OE BACCHUS RECENT PAINTERS. 457 the Temple of Bacchus down to the time of his death, which occurred at Modena August 5, 1894, his largest and most ambitious work being the painting entitled I Ftmerali di Britannico which was exhibited with great success at the Bologna exposition of 1888, and is now owned by Signor Lionello Cavalieri of Ferrara. Works in other styles were also produced from time to time, some of them being hasty compositions upon trivial sub- jects, painted for the Florence picture-dealers, and others being of a more serious nature, such as the large and important religious picture, with life-size figures, painted as an altar-piece for the church at Castelvetro, the little town where the Muzzioli fam- ily had resided before removing to Modena. Gio- vanni Muzzioli was never called upon to play the role of the prophet without honor in his own coun- try. His works were always received with enthu- siasm whenever they were exhibited in his native city, and he was ably supported before his reputa- tion had been established at Florence by generous Modenese patrons. From 1878 until 1894 Muzzioli lived and worked at Florence, but he maintained his relations with his early friends by occasional visits to Modena, and was with his family in that city when attacked by his fatal illness in the latter year.^ 1 I am principally indebted for my information on the subject of Muzzioli to Professor Antonio Simonazzi and Don Luigi Della Valle. Professor Simonazzi was one of Muzzioli’s preceptors at the Modena Academy, and was almost the first to note the remarkable character of his talent. Don Luigi Della Valle used his influence, more than 458 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. once, to obtain commissions for the young painter, and it was through his exertions that the parish of Castelvetro was induced to give the order for the altar-piece referred to in the text, — Don Luigi having prom- ised to take the picture himself if, in the end, the parish should be dis- satisfied with its bargain. Every facility was given to me at Modena to familiarize myself with Muzzioli’s work, and I was particularly glad to have had an opportunity to examine the collection of the Signora Ersilia Sacerdoti, which contains several finished pictures and many of the painter’s preliminary studies, including a carefully prepared bozzetto for the Temple of Bacchus and the large cartoon of the Funeral of Britannicus. The Signora Sacerdoti also owns Muzzioli’s first work, — a small interior of a peasant’s cottage, in the style of Domenico Induno. CHAPTER XV. RECENT PAINTERS OF NORTHERN ITALY. Importance of Milan as an art centre. — Its wealth and spirit of leader- ship. — Artists who took the lead in the modern movement. — The brothers and their work. — Other pioneers. — Pietrasajita and Far7'uffi7ii . — The development of the naturalistic tendency as indicated by the work of Eleuterio Paglia7io. — Similar changes in style exhibited in the paintings of Giuseppe Be7'tmi. — Peculiar character of the work of T7‘a7iquillo C7'e77i07ia. — Normal develop- ment again exhibited in the productions of Filippo Carca7io. — Early training of Carcano under Hayez. — His later work as a land- scape-painter. — Other Milanese painters. — Early training of Gio- va7ini Sega7iti7ii. — His experiments in genre and figure paintings and his first landscape work. — Pictures produced during his resi- dence in Switzerland between 1886 and 1894 . — Subsequent change of residence and later work. — Characteristics of his style. — Decline of historical painting at Venice and tendency of modern Venetian painters to devote themselves to landscape and genre painting. — Giaco77io Fav7'etto and his work. — His admirable qualities as a man. — Pictures by Favretto at Monza. — Notes on other Venetian painters. — Novel qualities in the work of Cesa7'e Laur‘e7iti. — His early studies at Florence and Naples. — Recent pictures by Lau- renti. — Me7itessi P7'eviati. — Giova7i7ii Boldi7ii his brilliant work as a portrait-painter. — Artists at Turin. — The genre-painter G. B. Quad7'07te. — Remarkable technical skill of the figure-painter Giaco77io G7‘osso. — The landscapes of Dellea7ii and Calderi7ti. — Ligurian painters. — The historical painter Niccolb Ba7'abi7io . — His early studies at Genoa, Rome, and Florence. — Frescos by Barabino in Ligurian churches, and in the Celesia Palace at Genoa. — Remarkable series of paintings in oil in the Orsini Palace. — Mosaics designed by Barabino for the decoration of the cathedral at Florence. — The famous Madonna now in the possession of 459 46 o history of modern ITALIAN ART. Queen Margherita. — Barabino’s last picture. — Odoardo 6^^//z and his work. — The eccentric style of painting developed Adolphe Monticelli. Among the four principal cities of northern Italy the leadership in art-matters must be accorded to Milan, in view of the number of artists established there, and the originality and importance of their work. Venice has nobler art traditions, but has no present wealth to support a large number of painters by local commissions. Turin has, in recent years, risen into a position of more impor- tance as an art centre than it occupied earlier in the century, but cannot yet be placed on a par with Milan. Genoa has been unable to keep its best artists at home, although men of highly exceptional talent, like Monteverde and Barabino, trace their nativity to the Ligurian province and owe their early art-training to the Genoa Academy. The two forces which have contributed to keep Milan at the head of the list have been its exceptional material prosperity and its spirit of leadership. No Italian city is so rich, in proportion to its population, and no other city of northern Italy except Turin has shown such a strong sense of local pride. The wealthy Milanese families have encouraged Milan- ese artists, and as a necessary result of their liberal patronage the ranks of the local group of painters have been kept full, and their work has been main- tained at a high standard of merit. Among the Lombard artists of the modern RECENT PAINTERS. 461 school, the first to adopt the principles of the naturalistic movement were the brothers Domen- ico and Girolamo Induno. Both of these men were born innovators. They adopted genre-paint- ing early in life, when historical painting was the only form of art which was regarded as of any importance, and they adhered to it until they made it a success. They also began to put in practice soon after i860 the new ideas on the sub- ject of color and light and shade which came in with the naturalistic movement, and made their work, from the technical point of view, as ad- vanced as that of any of the Italian painters of their time. Domenico Induno’s great picture (painted in 1862) of the Peace of Villafranca, of which there is one version in the private collec- tion of Giulio Pisa at Milan and another in the Museo del Risorgimento, has no kinship whatever in coloring or in light and shade with the work of Hayez or of any of the men of the older school. And the same might be said of many of the pict- ures of the younger brother Girolamo, particularly of the small canvas entitled Milazzo, which hangs in the Museo del Risorgimento, not far from Domenico’s larger and more famous, but not more progressive, work. Both of the Induno brothers were natives of Milan, and studied painting under local teachers. Domenico, who was born March 15, 1815, was apprenticed as a boy to a goldsmith; but his ex- 462 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. ceptional talent being noticed by the superinten- dent of the establishment, he was taken from the workshop and placed in the Academy of Fine Arts, where he became the pupil of Luigi Saba- telli and learned historical painting as taught by that master. Becoming involved in 1848 in the anti-Austrian movement, he was obliged to leave Milan, and resided in Switzerland, in Tuscany, and in other provinces outside of the Austrian possessions, until 1859, when it became possible for him to return to his native city. After that date he remained there until his death, which oc- curred November 5, 1878. Girolamo Induno was born at Milan in 1827, studied like his brother under Sabatelli, and at the outbreak of hostilities in 1848 joined the forces of the patriots. A year later we find him at Rome, where he was drawn in the first instance by his desire to assist the supporters of the republican regime in their strug- gle with the partisans of Pius IX, and vdiere he afterward remained for purposes of art study. Still filled with the military spirit, he followed the Italian forces to the Crimea in 1855, and did not permanently settle down to the practice of art at Milan until after the conclusion of the Austrian campaign of 1859, taking part himself in this pe- nultimate struggle in the war for independence. He survived his brother many years, not dying until December 18, 1890. Examples of the work of both of the brothers are frequently found in RECENT PAINTERS. 463 Italian collections. One of Girolamo Induno’s best canvases, the Departure of the Conscripts in 1866, hangs at present in the long apartment ad- joining the Throne Room in the Royal Palace at Milan, — an admirable picture, showing a group of soldiers listening to an address of encourag- ment from the syndic before leaving their native village to join the army in the field. Several other pictures by the same artist are now in the Museo del Risorgimento at Milan, including the Palestro (i860) and Magenta (1861), which were regarded as masterpieces thirty years ago, but which can- not now be considered as equal to the smaller canvas in the Royal Palace. The works of the younger brother are more uneven in merit than those of the older brother, and some of them, as, for example, the three now in the Gallery of Mod- ern Art at Turin, give a wholly inadequate idea of his powers. He was, however, an artist of more than ordinary ability, and does not, by any means, depend for his reputation upon the re- flected light received from the more brilliant talent of his brother Domenico. Among the other Milanese painters who came into prominence before 1870, there were none who broke away quite so completely from all the hallowed Italian traditions in the matter of subject as the Induno brothers, but there were several men of strongly individual tendencies who found an op- portunity to exhibit their individuality and their 464 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. independence of precedent in other ways. Novel ideas of color and of light and shade were brought to the front by Angelo Pietrasanta whose one picture in the Royal Palace at Milan, representing Pico della Mirandola in the presence of Lorenzo de’ Medici, proves him to have been one of the most talented artists of this period. The general style of the work, so far as the subject, the grouping of the figures, and the scale upon which they are painted are concerned, is the same as that of Podesti s Studio of Raphael and the other quadretii storici of the middle of the century ; but the light and shade approach much more closely to a correct repre- sentation of out-of-door effects than in the work of Podesti, and the coloring is also more strongly charged with white and has less of the oily tone than the work of Podestis school. Federico Far- ruffini, another Lombard painter of this period, showed himself rather conservative in the matter of subject, but an innovator in matters of technique. Judging from his Sordello in Room XXIV of the Brera Gallery, he was a romanticist at heart, but he made his interpretation of romantic subjects more effective than that of Hayez by his total re- jection of the rhetorical aftd affected in pose and expression, and by his strongly original coloring. It is a pity that the Sordello should be hidden away from sight in a room inaccessible to the public, for it is of exceptional importance as a study of expres- sion, and also presents a novel and rarely beautiful RECENT PAINTERS. 465 effect of color. Farruffini's career was relatively short, as he was born (at Sesto S. Giovanni) in 1833, and died (at Perugia) in 1870; but if he had been granted a longer lease of life, he would un- doubtedly have taken a place among the foremost Lombard artists of his time. It is possible that Pietrasanta and Farrufifini had some contact with Morelli when he was at Milan in 1 860-1 86 1, painting the Pompeian Bath and Count Lara; and it is certain that Eleuterio Pagliano and Giuseppe Bertini — contemporaries of the artists above referred to — enjoyed the personal acquaint- ance of the Neapolitan master, and had an oppor- tunity to familiarize themselves with his work. Pagliano, who was a native of Piedmont (born at Casale Monferrato May 2, 1826), studied art at Milan under Giuseppe Sogni, a pupil of Sabatelli, and in 1855 painted the picture of Photius and the Empress Theodelinda, now in the Brera Gallery, which presents not a trace of modern methods, and shows that, at that stage of his career, the young painter was quite as conservative as the rank and file of the Lombard artists of his time. Whether he immediately gave signs of a change after his contact with Morelli, I am unable to state, but in 1866 he painted a picture representing the attack of the French Zouaves on the Austrians entrenched in the cemetery at Solferino, in which he set all the revered traditions of Italian historical painting at defiance, and produced a work of more intensely 466 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. modern character than any picture which Morelli himself had painted up to that date. This painting, which is now in the Museo del Risorgimento at Milan, is of interest and importance, from an evo- lutionary point of view, as marking the early high-water mark of naturalism in Lombard art. Nothing but the most patient and persistent study of out-of-door effects of light and color could have enabled Pagliano to reproduce the sunlight blazing down upon the yellow soil of the cemetery and the dust-colored coats of the Austrian soldiers with such unerring accuracy ; and equally patient study of the natural movement and grouping of figures must have been necessary to enable him to obliterate so completely all traces of academic composition. After this date Pagliano carried along two styles of painting contemporaneously, still continuing to pro- duce highly finished compositions belonging to the category of historical genre, while keeping up his expertness as a literal imitator of natural effects. One of his later pictures of the former class was the brilliantly colored representation of Zeuxis and his models (1889), now belonging to the Milan municipal collection, and of the latter class the life-like study of Santuzza kneeling by the dead body of Turiddu which was painted in 1891, while the interest in Verga’s story, as popularized by Mascagni’s clever music, was at its height. I should add, as offering a partial explanation of Pagliano’s interest in mili- tary subjects, that he served in the Italian army RECENT PAINTERS. 467 during the campaign of 1848, and again during that of 1859, and, therefore, had the best of all opportu- nities for forming an impression of war in its actual, as contradistinguished from its poetic, aspect. Except for the period of service in the army the early part of the career of Giuseppe Bertini (who was born at Milan in 1825) was very much like that of Pao-liano. He studied at the Brera under O Luigi Sabatelli and Giuseppe Bisi, and in 1845 was awarded the prix de Rome on the strength of a picture, now in Room XXII of the Brera Gallery, representing the meeting between Dante and Fra Ilario — a picture which is sombre in color and chiaroscuro, and shows that the young artist was at this time quite as conservative as Pagliano. As soon, however, as the reaction toward a closer study of nature began to make itself felt at Milan, his style underwent an almost total change. The picture by Bertini, now in the Museo del Risorgi- mento at Milan, representing the triumphal entry of the allied sovereigns into that city after the battle of Magenta, — which must, because of the scene which it represents, have been painted after 1859, — is brilliant almost to the point of crude- ness in color, and is also noticeably an advanced work in its interpretation of out-of-door effects of light and shade. In his decorative compositions a somewhat similar change of style became evident at about the same time. The first works which he executed as a decorator at Milan — the frescos in 468 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. one of the vaulted rooms of the residence of the Signora Puricelli Guerra, representing the great men of the middle ages, backgrounded against per- spectives of Gothic architecture — are very sombre in tone, while the sipario which he painted in col- laboration with Raffaele Casnedi for the theatre of La Scala in 1862 is extremely brilliant in coloring and luminous in chiaroscuro. Some of Bertini’s most pleasing works are those which exhibit his talent as a decorator. The Sala Dorata in the Poldi-Pezzoli Museum at Milan has a series of three mural panels at the end of the room opposite the window, the central one representing Painting, Sculpture, and Architecture, and the two lateral ones symbolizing Poetry and Music, which show his technical skill in drawing and painting the nude to great advantage ; and the decorations on the cove of the ceiling of the Dante Room in the same museum are even finer examples of his taste, the mediaeval Tuscan type of physiognomy used in the faces of the figures being in perfect keeping with the character of the room, and the harmonious browns, dull reds, and ivory tints introduced in the coloring rendering the color effect particularly pleasing.^ ^ The Commendatore Bertini is a man of inexhaustible energy and has had a very busy life. Between 1848 and i860 he was occasionally employed as an instructor in the Academy of Fine Arts, and upon the reorganization of that institution in i860 he was placed permanently in charge of one of the two schools of painting (Hayez being in charge of the other), and has continued to hold his professorship down to the RECENT PAINTERS. 469 In speaking of the Lombard painters who have distinguished themselves in recent years by their originality and their progressive spirit, I have thus far made no mention of Tranquillo Cremona, whose work differed quite as conspicuously from that of his predecessors as the work of any of the painters thus far mentioned in this chapter, but who does not in any sense fall into the regular line of develop- ment of modern Lombard art. Living at an epoch when the prevailing tendency of all the artists about him was toward naturalism, he remained absolutely unaffected by the principles which were accepted without question by almost all the younger painters, and never produced a naturalistic form of art. That he could ever, at any stage of his career, have painted such a picture as Pagliano s Attack on the Cemetery at Solferino is inconceivable. He appar- ently had no perception of the exterior of things, but only of their inner content. What he sought present time. He has also been for many years the Director of the Poldi-Pezzoli Museum ; and I may say in this same connection that he was the art-adviser of its founder and deserves much of the credit for the exceptional good taste shown in the selection of the various objects forming the collection. Beside these regular official duties he has been frequently requested to serve temporarily on art-commissions, entrusted with the decision of questions of great importance, and has been obliged to bear, with as good grace as possible, the many minor inflictions which an oracle in art-matters is called upon to endure. Even the ex- ceedingly competent commission charged with the duty of building the modern facade of the Florence cathedral found it impossible to steer through the difficulties of their position without appealing to Bertini for guidance, and addressed a request for expert advice to him at the same critical moment when they appealed to Viollet-le-Duc. 470 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. to do was to paint emotions of the most delicate and subtle kind, and he carried his details of out- ward form no farther than was absolutely neces- sary to interpret his inner meaning. So far as I am aware there are none of his pictures in pub- lic galleries, but in the private collections of Milan may be found several characteristic works, among them the picture entitled The Cousins in the collec- tion of Giulio Pisa, and four pictures in the collec- tion of the Signora Puricelli Guerra, — The Visit to the Tomb of Romeo and Juliet, The Falconer, An Idyl, and a portrait. Of these works the one which represents a young man and woman, evi- dently lovers themselves, gazing on the tomb of Romeo and Juliet, is the most definite and posi- tive; and the Idyl, representing a love scene be- tween two peasants in a forest, is the most vague and impalpable. Cremona had no fondness for de- tail, and his dislike of what was definite and precise was so intense as to lead him sometimes to omit even the contours which were necessary to make clear his meaning. A face and an arm vaguely emerging out of a shadowy background, provided they were subtly expressive of some profound emo- tion, were enough to constitute a picture in his es- timation. In painting the nude portions of the figure what he sought to represent was its soft, yielding quality, and in conveying this impression he succeeded admirably. Art of the kind which he produced has no success with the masses, and Cre- RECENT PAINTERS. 4; I mona never attained to what would be called gen- eral popularity, although he found a number of enthusiastic admirers among Italian and foreign connoisseurs, and was looked upon as a great genius by his pupils. He shared the common lot of artists in being obliged to struggle with poverty in his youth, but was sufficiently successful in the end to leave a comfortable property to his family. He came into notice abroad as early as 1873, when some of his works were exhibited at the interna- tional exposition at Vienna, and a year later he received an honor at home in being made an asso- ciate academician of the Brera. After his death, which occurred June 9, 1878, a memorial tablet was set in the wall of the house where his studio had been (No. ii. Via Solferino), and his bust, carved by Renato Peduzzi, was given a place among the marble portraits of Lombard artists in the portico of the Brera. If it is difficult to harmonize Cremona’s personal style with the general art-tendencies of his time, no such difficulty occurs in the case of Filippo Car- cano, who adopted the principles of the naturalistic movement upon their first appearance, and has since then become one of the most wholly consist- ent and uncompromising champions of naturalistic art. His early life was passed at Milan, where he was born in 1840, and his art studies were pursued at the Brera under Hayez, who taught him histori- cal painting as it was practised prior to i860; but 472 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. in 1863 Carcano made some original experiments in naturalism on his own account, and after that date virtually manumitted himself from the control of his early master, and built up an independent style based on the direct study of nature. What the character of his work was, before the change, is shown by the historical painting representing Fred- erick Barbarossa and Henry the Lion at Chiavenna, which he painted in 1862, and which is now in Room XXII of the Brera Gallery — a work which is strictly conservative in style and reveals nothing of its author’s underlying liberal tendencies. It was in 1863 that the transformation took place as the result of some painstaking studies made by the young artist during his summer vacation ; and the exceptional fidelity of his interpretation of out-of- door effects is proved by the reception which Hayez accorded to them. The older master was unable to believe that they could have been produced by any legitimate process of painting, and privately gave currency to the idea that Carcano had invented a new mechanical process — an idea which unfortu- nately aroused some prejudice against his work and delayed its general acceptance at Milan. Foreign connoisseurs were perhaps quicker to perceive the merit of his pictures than his own immediate pub- lic, — among his early admirers being Mr. William Graham, the friend and patron of Dante Gabriel Rossetti, who began to buy his canvases as early as 1865. RECENT PAINTERS. 473 Carcano’s busy and fruitful production of land- scapes did not begin until about 1879, but from that time down to the present date he has held the foremost rank among Milanese landscape-painters. Some of his work is too crudely natural, too abso- lutely lacking in the slightest flavor of idealism to be wholly pleasing ; but where he abates somewhat of the rigor of his creed and sins lightly against his own ideals, his pictures become altogether charm- ing. His methods, according to the description of them given by Giulio Carotti, are those of the most rigidly conscientious naturalist. He plants his easel out of doors before the scene which he is to paint and puts nothing upon his canvas, not even by w^ay of relieving the bareness of the foreground, which he does not find before his eyes. He even purchases the growing crops, or enters into a bar- gain with their owner not to remove them, so that absolutely no change may be made in the scene which he is painting until it has literally been trans- ferred to his canvas. As examples of his purely naturalistic work I may cite the picture of the Square of St. Mark’s, w^hich received the Prince Humbert prize at Milan in 1882, and was purchased a year later for the National Gallery at Rome where it may now be seen ; and the rather sombre marine, entitled Morn- ing on the Seashore, which was painted in 1886 and is now in the same collection. Prominent among his slightly idealized productions stands the 474 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. Judas Iscariot, a Biblical scene interpreted in the style of Morelli, which first appeared at the Milan exposition of i88i, and was immediately purchased by King Humbert; and the luminous landscape, entitled Pescarenico, which formed one of the chefs- d’oeuvre of the Turin exposition of the previous year, and passed into the possession of Count Balbo Bertone di Sambuy. The latter work shows an expanse of water in the foreground,- with a town extending its white walls and dull red roofs along the farther shore, and an abrupt mountain slope rising toward a vaporous sky in the background. Before concluding what is to be said of the works of Carcano, reference should be made to the views of Pompeii and Naples which he painted during one of his expeditions to southern Italy — I think in 1883 or 1884. Six of these views, framed in one frame, are now in the National Gallery at Rome, and furnish a much more favorable idea of Carcano’s taste than the two larger pictures already referred to. The point of view is selected with much discernment as to the pictorial possibilities in the result, and the coloring is slightly idealized with great advantage to the general color-effect. The group of landscapists now established at Milan includes several men of more recent dis- tinction than Carcano, among whom may be men- tioned Eugenio Gignous and Count Emilio Gola. Gignous is a Savoyard (born in 1850) and a pupil of Cremona. In his subjects he takes quite as wide RECENT PAINTERS. 475 a range as Carcano, and in his style the most pro- nounced feature is a tendency toward delicacy of expression. Emilio Gola, who was born at Milan in 1852, studied under Sebastiano De Albertis (an artist recently deceased, who was principally known for his clever battle pictures and scenes of military life) and has exhibited considerable skill as a por- trait and figure painter, beside making a distinct success with his landscape work. In his produc- tions of the latter class he has made a specialty of scenes along the naviglio, or canal, which borders some of the streets in Milan, and has thus given a peculiarly Milanese stamp to his work. One of the distinguishing merits in Cola’s temperament is his abhorrence of everything which tends toward the crude and the startling. His pictures are not cal- culated to please that portion of the public who insist upon bravura effects ; they are addressed to the nicer taste of persons who insist upon refine- ment as well as originality in a work of art. Although he has resided for a number of years outside of Lombardy, I must assign a place among the Lombard artists to Giovanni Segantini, who was at one time a pupil of the Milan Academy and who probably still looks upon Milan as having a larger claim upon him than any other Italian city. Segantini was born January 15, 1858, at Arco in the extreme southern section of the Austrian Tyrol, but was taken by his family to Milan when he was five years old, and remained there until his mar- 4/6 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. riage in 1882. When he was seventeen or eighteen he began to study decorative art at the Brera, and later received some elementary instruction in draw- ing the figure at the same institution. The first of his works to attract notice was a picture of the choir of the church of S. Antonio at Milan, which he painted upon a disused fire-screen, and in which he resorted for the first time to the expedient of laying on the unmixed colors in fine lines side by side, instead of first reducing them to the desired resultant tint by mixing them on his palette — a technical peculiarity which frequently recurs in his later work. Up to 1882 he paid little attention to landscape, the first twenty pictures which appear in the list of his complete works being divided be- tween genre-compositions and studies of animals and still-life, with only one or two landscapes. Very soon after his marriage he left Milan and passed the greater part of the four years which fol- lowed in the Brianza, as the fertile, undulating district north of Milan is called, and here he com- menced his landscape work in earnest, painting a large number of pictures and rising at once into the position of prominence as a landscape-painter which he has since successfully maintained. The large landscape entitled Alla sta^iga, now in the National Gallery of Modern Art at Rome, was painted during the last year of his residence in the Brianza and is regarded as one of his best works of this period. PLOUGHING IN THE ENGADINE >'■ "■i :% RECENT PAINTERS. 477 In 1886, feeling that he had exhausted the Bri- anza and hearing reports of the country about Savognin in one of the Swiss valleys above the Lake of Constance which impressed him favorably, he decided to break up his home in Italy and estab- lish a new one in Switzerland. The plan was car- ried out, and the years between 1886 and 1894 were spent in the Oberhalbsteinerthal. Over a hundred pictures in various mediums were pro- duced there, almost all of them having landscapes, or landscapes with animals, as their subjects, many of them painted directly from life and others in his chalet-studio when the weather was unfavorable for working out of doors. The well-known picture en- titled Ploughing in the Engadine was painted in 1890. It is an excellent example of Segantini’s style. He is equally good as an animal-painter and as a landscape-painter, and in this work he shows in a favorable manner his strength in rendering both classes of subjects. The work also shows traces of his singular technique which are so marked as to be apparent even in a photographic reproduction, the colors being evidently laid on in streaks or in fine fibres instead of in even tints. In 1894 Segantini changed his residence again, purchasing or building a house on the summit of the Maloja Pass where the landscapes were much wilder than at Savognin. Here he painted in 1894- 1895 large picture entitled the Return to the Old Home, which was exhibited at the international 478 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. art exposition at Venice in 1895 and was awarded a prize of five thousand francs. Although from the nature of the subject one would infer that the picture must have been something more than a land- scape, the landscape element nevertheless predomi- nated. The sad procession of the widow leaving her desolate home and returning to her father’s house was only an incident of the great picture, which embraced in the distance a range of majestic mountains, streaked with snow and touched with the rosy tints of sunrise. The only unfavorable comment which I should be disposed to make upon Segantini’s work is that he inclines to cultivate eccentricity for eccentricity’s sake ; but this fault is only the exaggeration of his great merit, that is to say of his unwillingness to be limited to routine subjects or to be bound down by routine methods. It is impossible to form a general conception of his production except from photo- graphs, the originals being so widely scattered ; but judging from the fine reproductions which have been issued by Alberto Grubicy of Milan, his pictures are always fresh in subject and free from the slightest trace of platitude. He seems particularly fond of studying strange and unusual effects of light, as evidenced by one of his studies showing the return of the flock to the sheepfold at dusk, and another study made in the interior of the fold showing the huddling forms of the sheep as they are made dimly visible by the light of a single lamp. RECENT PAINTERS. 479 Turning to the work of the Venetian painters of this period, we find evident signs of the decreas- ing popularity of historical painting and equally evident signs of the rising popularity of landscape and o:enre. A s^reat stimulus toward the revival of genre-painting was given by the clever work of Giacomo Favretto, who made himself quite as popular throughout the whole of north Italy be- tween 1877 and 1887 as Domenico Induno during the decade between i860 and 1870. The fasci- nation of Favretto’s work and the eagerness which was exhibited by the leading connoisseurs to obtain examples of it, exercised a most natural and inevi- table effect in turning the attention of the younger generation of Venetian artists toward that style of painting and toward other kindred styles which accorded with modern taste and which easily found purchasers. There are still at Venice artists of ability who can compose and execute large works in the grand style, as evidenced by the decorations recently completed in the building adjoining the Prefecture; but, as a rule, the modern Venetian painters have devoted themselves to works on a smaller scale, and have been contented with less ambitious achievements. Favretto passed his whole life at Venice, from his birth in 1849 (August ii) until his death in 1887 (June 12). He received his art-education at the Venice Academy under Pompeo Molmenti and other conservative masters, and commenced his 480 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. independent career, like Domenico Induno, as a historical painter. When the ideas of the new art-movement, headed by Morelli at Naples and by Celentano and others at Rome, were brought to Venice early in the seventies by the young Venetians who had studied away from home, Fav- retto began to feel that historical painting was out of date, or at least that there was some other form of art which was more adapted to his own talent, and which he could practise with a surer prospect of immediate success; and he soon de- veloped the independent style which has since been associated with his name. The subjects which he selected were taken from every-day life, and the scheme of coloring which he adopted, and which was characterized by a liberal use of browns and blacks lighted up by touches of pure orange, green, and blue, was a pure invention of his own, which no other artist had ever used before him, and which came to be one of the distinguishing marks of his work. In 1875 he painted one of his first successful pictures. The Lesson in Anatomy (now in the Brera Gallery), representing a professor and some pupils standing about an anatomical cast of the human figure. The critics, not prepared for the blacks and browns, called his colors muddy, but they conceded that the interpretation of facial ex- pression was wholly admirable in its truth and vivacity. After this came The Mouse (1879) and RECENT PAINTERS. 481 Vandalism (18S0), this last also in the Brera Gal- lery, showing a clumsy restorer of ancient master- pieces daubing away in an energetic manner at some priceless canvas of Titian or Tiepolo, wdiile his wife sits cheerily sewing by his side. Among the prominent traits of Favretto’s character w^ere the gentleness and kindliness of his disposition. He seems never to have wished anything but good to any human being, and he showed it both in his work and in his relations with his friends. In the picture just referred to, the malice is most innocent, the satire most gentle. Inno- cence and gentleness, in fact, marked his whole career. One can easily imagine the life-long grati- tude which he must have felt toward the original discoverer of his talent, who found him working at ten or twelve soldi a day in a stationer’s shop, already exhibiting his cleverness by his skill in cutting out silhouettes in black paper, and who arranged for his admission to the Academy. Fav- retto endured trials with more than Christian patience. He was feeble as a child, compelled to struggle with poverty as a youth, and before he reached his thirtieth year had entirely lost the sight of one eye, necessarily a most serious im- pediment to his work. After he became famous and, in comparison with the early limitations upon his means, a rich man, his principal solicitude is said to have been for the welfare and comfort of his family, never for his own. 482 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. Queen Margherita found out Favretto as early as 1883, and rarely failed to visit his studio or summon him to the palace during her annual summer sojourn in Venice. Three of his best pictures, the Market of the Campo S. Polo at Venice, the Maddalena Ferry, and the Liston odierno, or promenade of the modern Venetians in the Piazza, are owned by the royal family and hang at present in the salon ad- joining the library in the Royal Villa at Monza. The Maddalena Ferry, which hangs at the end of the room opposite the windows, is perhaps less con- spicuously marked with the characteristics of Fav- retto’s style than the other two pictures ; but the Market of the Campo S. Polo and the Liston would be instantly recognized as his work by the peculiarity of the coloring. The latter, representing as it does the winter costume of our own time, with its pre- vailing blacks and browns, was a subject particularly well adapted to bring out what was most character- istic in the artist’s style, and he did not fail to im- prove it to the utmost. The Liston was Favretto’s last work, and was draped with crape at the Venice exposition of 1887.^ 1 Several of Favretto’s Venetian contemporaries have acquired national reputations in Italy and are known to some extent abroad. Angelo DalV Oca Bianca paints subjects taken from contemporary life and has been regarded as possessing exceptional talent as a colorist. Guglielnw Ciardi has taken high rank as a landscape-painter since the great success of his Messidoro, a picture which was exhibited at Berlin in 1886 and at Venice in 1887, and which has now hung for a number of years in the National Gallery at Rome. His style in this particular work suggests that of Carcano in his most uncompromisingly natural- RECENT PAINTERS. 483 Cesare Laurenti, a native of the province of Fer- rara, now established at Venice, has made himself a place quite apart from that of most of the other modern Venetian painters by the peculiar character of his subjects and by the novelty of his technique. Following the lead of Favretto, who was the most brilliant figure in the local group of artists when he first established himself at Venice, Laurenti devoted himself at the beginning of his career to genre- painting, but has since then adopted a different class of subjects, his preference evidently being for themes which illustrate some sad or tragic phase of modern life. He has almost entirely discarded painting in oil in favor of a process of his own invention, somewhat resembling distemper, and has rendered the general appearance of his work still more unique by adopting the practice of covering his pictures with glass. The credit of having first discovered the talent of Laurenti belongs to the sculptor Luigi Ceccon of Padua, who made the acquaintance of the young painter before he had begun to devote himself to istic moments. Two of Ciardi’s landscapes, Morning in the Alps and Autumn Morning, are in the royal collection at Monza. Alberto Pros- docl m I pAnts views of Venetian architecture in a finished manner and is represented by a view of the Baptistery of St. Mark’s at the National Gallery at Rome. Egisio Lancerotto is a clever genre-painter and also executes portraits in a spirited manner. Luigi Da Rios, who died in February, 1892. was favorably known abroad as a painter of Venetian scenes, his tendency in the choice of subjects being toward themes which have a touch of pathos in them or which exhibit the quiet, domestic side of life among the poorer classes. 484 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. art for art’s sake and when he was simply a humble mechanician, employed in engraving the backs of playing-cards. Laurenti left the little village of Mesola, where he was born in 1854, as soon as he could obtain a foothold in a larger place, and established himself in Padua for the purpose of learning the processes of engraving. With the help of Ceccon he was enabled to leave Padua in 1873 or 1874 and commence a systematic course of art studies at Florence, where he became a pupil of the Academy and studied painting under Giu- seppe Ciaranfi. Feeling at the end of his Floren- tine studies that he was still deficient as a colorist, he determined to obtain the benefit of some instruc- tion under Morelli, and leaving Florence in 1880 he changed the scene of his work to Naples, remaining a pupil of the great Neapolitan leader until the latter’s resignation of his professorship at the Naples Institute of Fine Arts in 1881. At that time finding nothing more to detain him in Naples, Laurenti returned to the north of Italy and established himself at Venice where he has since resided. A picture entitled La Vedova, painted about 1885, is referred to by the Cavaliere Centelli as inaueuratins: the series of Laurenti’s more serious works. This was followed in 1887 by a picture called Fronts a 7 iimi interpres which the artist had the misfortune of seeing rejected by the receiving committee of the Vienna exposition. In 1891 CANDIDUM LILIUM FROM THE PAINTING P.Y LAURENTI '( ft \ .. 1 >;V^ ; ;,a ■h '■" .■ ■ i RECENT PAINTERS. 485 a work entitled The Fates was received at the Milan exposition and awarded the Prince Humbert prize. This may be said to have been Laurenti’s first unqualified success in the field in which he aimed to excel, although during the decade between 1880 and 1890 he had been continually producing genre-scenes of contemporary Venetian life and had no difficulty in selling them. The Fates was a work in the Leopardian vein, the underlying motive being indicated by the attractive guise in which Atropos — the Fate who cuts the thread of human life — was painted. “ Death,” as the Cavaliere Cen- telli says in speaking of this painting, “ is no longer made terrible in aspect. On the contrary she pre- sents herself in an attractive and seductive form as bringing with her tranquillity and repose.” Other works of similar character followed — the most important of the series, considering the amount of labor expended upon it, being the large diptych exhibited at Venice in 1895, representing a group of young people in the buoyancy of youth on one side of the dividing line and a correspond- ing group of aged men and women with worn and haggard faces on the other side. One of Lau- renti’s pictures, entitled II primo dubbio, is now in the National Gallery of Modern Art at Rome, and furnishes a good example of his technique. It is, however, less pleasing in subject than the simple portrait-study entitled Candidnm lilium which I have selected for illustration in this book, a picture 486 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. which explains itself and which requires no verbal comment. Laurenti’s coloring, in the examples of his work which have come under my observation, is quite different from that of most of the Italian painters of his time. He is not averse to the use of violets, soft pinks, and other delicate tones of that class, and his whole coloring is strongly charged with white as a result of the entire exclu- sion of oil from the medium which he uses. Several other modern painters of unusual talent trace their nativity to the province of Ferrara. Two of these men, Giuseppe Mentessi and Gaetano Previati, are now established at Milan, and both of them emerge distinctly from the rank and file of contemporary artists by the novelty and originality of their work. One of Mentessi’s most admired compositions is the wholly unconventional triptych which he exhibited at Venice in 1897, i*epresenting the Madonna and Child surrounded with adoring figures. Previati’s remarkable spontaneity has re- ceived a fresh demonstration recently in the illus- trations prepared by him for the 1897 edition de luxe of Manzoni’s Promessi Sposi, illustrations which occasionally suggest the weird imagination of Dore, and which in their technique also bear some resemblance to the work of that artist, al- though they are less positive in drawing. A third painter from the same province, Giovanni Boldini, has made his headquarters for many years at Paris, and is probably at the present time more widely RECENT PAINTERS. 487 distinguished for excellence in one particular branch of art — portraiture — than any other Italian painter. Boldini was born in 1845 and received his first instruction in art from his father, a painter of humble pretensions, who produced pictures of saints for the local churches, and also practised portrait-painting with some success. Later he passed six years in somewhat desultory work at Florence, and before 1872 had already ventured out into the great world and inaugurated his brilliant career as a portrait-painter by some early successes in London. After his first taste of foreign life he felt little temptation to return to Italy, and decided to establish himself at Paris, which has now been his home for over twenty years. Portraits have never been his sole concern ; a large number of genre-pictures, landscapes, and out-of-door scenes having first and last come into shape under his nervous, rapid, brilliant touch. His works in genre alone would have made him a great reputation, but they would not have given him the unique distinc- tion which his portraits have won for him. Bol- dini’s work as a portrait-painter has no relation with the photographic camera. The essential quality in his talent is the quality which makes the success of a clever caricaturist, — an abnormally acute percep- tion of what gives individuality to a face or figure. The caricaturist deliberately makes the quality ri- diculous. Boldini advances to the dividing line between caricature and sober portraiture, and halts 488 HISTORY OP^ MODERN ITALIAN ART. on the very frontier with just enough of a leaning toward the safe side to save his own self-respect and that of his sitter. In his most vivid work his sub- jects seem charged with galvanic fluid, which goes off from their elbows and finger tips with almost audible detonations. Some such suggestion seems to be conveyed by the portrait of Princess Ponia- towska. In treating persons of more phlegmatic temperament, his canvases necessarily have a qual- ity of relative sobriety and repose. The portrait of Professor Adolph Menzel, for example, is a work in which there are no distinct traces of nervous exaltation ; but even here the galvanometer would register a vibration slightly above the normal, and would clearly distinguish the art-product from the heavy, ponderous, prosaic results of ordinary por- traiture. Although Turin is not usually regarded as an art centre of much importance, the local group of painters includes at present several men who can- not be overlooked in any review of the work of contemporary artists which pretends to be at all comprehensive. Giovanni Battista Quadrone is one of the cleverest of the contemporary genre-painters, unconventional in his choice of subjects, and remark- ably finished in his style of execution. Two of his pictures are in the Gallery of Modern Art at Turin, one of them representing a newly wedded pair jour- neying across country in an antiquated conveyance, and evidently in much doubt as to whether they are RECENT PAINTERS. 489 likely to bring up safely at their destination ; the other, entitled The Eavesdropper, showing an un- seen listener behind a curtain, betraying his presence by the slightest perceptible pressure of a hand upon the folds of the drapery. Quadrone’s canvases are found in the royal collection at Monza and some of the best private collections, and are much sought for by connoisseurs. His exuberant fancy fur- nishes him an inexhaustible supply of ingenious sub- jects which render his pictures always interesting, quite apart from the excellence of their execution. Giacomo Grosso, another member of the Turinese group of painters who has held for several years a professorship in the Academy, has distinguished himself by his perfect command of all the technical processes of his art, and by the entire absence of anything which could be called hesitancy or timid- ity in his manner of painting. Grosso does not always select subjects which place his work within the pale of general appreciation, but he renders any theme which he selects with great power and force. One of the most characteristic examples of his work to be seen in any public collection is the large canvas, with life-size figures, in the Gallery of Modern Art at Turin, representing the tragic finale of Verga’s Storia di una capinera, where the heroine, who has been forced into a convent against her will, becomes insane and is conducted, in the presence of the sisterhood, to the mad woman’s cell. It will be clear, from this description, that the subject is 490 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. not one which an English artist would select; but in justice to Grosso it must be admitted that the rendering is strikingly true to life, and the effects of color and of light and shade such as only a born painter could produce. To the names of the two artists whom I have mentioned must be added that of the landscapist, Lorenzo Delleani (born at Pol- lone January 17, 1840), who studied historical paint- ing under Gastaldi at the Turin Academy between 1855 and i860, and devoted himself for many years to a class of work in which figures played a promi- nent part. In 1881, however, the success of one of his landscapes at the Milan exposition induced him to turn his attention to landscape-jDainting, and since then he has devoted himself almost exclusively to that branch of art. Two examples of his work may now be seen in the Gallery of Modern Art at Turin, one of them representing a party of Venetian nobles in sumptuous sixteenth century costumes with a background of Venetian architecture {Su/ Molo a Venezia) painted in 1874 before his manner had changed, and another showing some cattle feeding in a mountain pasture {Altipiano) painted in 1889 after he had definitely gone over to landscape-painting. There are also three of his landscapes in the Na- tional Gallery of Modern Art at Rome, the best of them being the glimpse of an Alpine meadow near Biella {Alto Biellese) which he painted in 1887, and which presents a beautiful effect of sunlight on a green pasture with the abrupt slopes of a mountain RECENT PAINTERS. 491 half veiled by morning mists in the background. Not less pleasing than the work of Delleani is that of another Piedmontese landscape-painter, Marco Calderini (born at Turin July 20, 1850), who has been particularly successful in rendering the poetic sadness of autumn, with fallen leaves littering the paths of deserted gardens and choking up the con- duits of melancholy fountains. Two of Calderini’s pictures, Le statue solitarie and Tristezza, are in the National Gallery at Rome. Under the head of Genoa I shall speak of but one painter, but that one a man who more success- fully than any other of his time has sustained the tradition of what is noblest and highest in Italian art. It is easy to understand with what eyes Raphael and Correggio would have looked upon the work of many of the men who have practised the art of little things with so much cleverness in our own day. They would regard them much as Milton would regard the newspaper paragrapher. I do not think, however, that any of these worthies of antiquity would speak or think lightly of the work of Niccolb Barabino. The constant elevation of his ideals would certainly have commanded their respect, and the perfection of his execution would as certainly have won their admiration. Barabino learned his system of technique in an old-fashioned school, the Academy of Fine Arts at Genoa, of which he became a pupil in 1843. ^vas natural that he should receive his training at this institu- 492 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. tion, for he was born (June 15, 1831) within walking distance of its doors, and made the journey on foot, daily, back and forth from his home in the suburb of Sampierdarena, while he continued on its rolls as a student. His academic work was brought to a close in 1855 by the act of the authorities of the school in conferring upon him a pension for study in other cities; and his departure from Genoa at that time proved to be his final abandonment of that city as a place of residence. For three years, from 1855 to 1858, he worked at Rome, enjoying the friendship of Vertunni, Fracassini, and Ussi ; and in 1858 he settled at Florence, which he made his headquarters from that time until his death in 1891 (October 19). During the period of twenty years, extending from 1859 to 1879, Barabino devoted himself largely to fresco-painting, his commissions coming principally from his native province. Examples of his work in fresco will be found in the churches of several of the small towns along the Riviera,^ the 1 The Ligurian churches which he decorated were the church of S. Giacomo di Corte at S. Margherita Ligure (1863), the parish church at Sampierdarena (1864), the pilgrimage church of the Madonna of Mont’ Allegro (1866). the parish church at Camogli (1867), and the church of the Assumption at Sestri Ponente (1869). After having carefully examined many of these frescos, I am unable to agree with those critics who have declared them to be of exceptional merit. The best of them seemed to me to be those in the church at Camogli, where some of the figures of prophets on the vaulting show traces of a master hand in the unconventionality of the pose and expression of the figures and in the novelty of the coloring. RECENT PAINTERS. 493 best being those in the parish church at Camogli. Early in the seventies he received a commission for the decoration of the central salon on the ground floor of the Celesia Palace at Genoa, and executed three large lunettes, one of them representing the Sicilian Vespers, and the others having as their subjects Galileo before the tribunal of the Inquisi- tion and Pier Capponi destroying the capitoli in the presence of Charles VIII, these last being altogether his best works in this medium. Other frescos by Barabino at Genoa are the ceiling paintings in the two small rooms beyond the coun- cil chamber in the Palazzo Municipale, and the decorations of the vaulting of the chapel of the Galliera Hospital. None of these, however, are of the highest order of merit, and even in the frescos at the Celesia Palace he does not rise to so high a level as in his works in oil. The first of Barabino’s important works in the latter medium (excepting the Boniface VIII, which dates from as early as i866) was the large picture representing Galileo at Arcetri, which he painted in 1879-1880, and which now forms part of the decora- tion of the principal salon in the Orsini Palace at Genoa — one of the most superbly decorated rooms in Italy. Facing it, on the opposite wall, is another picture of the same size, representing Columbus at Salamanca, on which Barabino worked at intervals from 1882 to 1887, and between them are two other canvases representing Volta discovering the voltaic 494 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. current and Archimedes pondering upon mathe- matical problems in his study at Syracuse. The technical execution of these great pictures may be pronounced absolutely flawless, and their coloring is also of a high order of merit. When the Galileo, which as I have said was the first to be completed, was exhibited at Turin in 1880, its success was in- stantaneous, both with the general public and with the connoisseurs. King Humbert openly com- mended the artist and expressed his regret that the picture was already the property of Senator Orsini and could not be acquired for the royal collection. Barabino himself was forced to realize that he had made a mistake in devoting so much of his atten- tion up to that time to work in fresco, and that he would have pursued a far wiser course if he had rejected all his early commissions for the decora- tion of Ligurian churches and persistently devoted himself to the elaboration of historical paintings. Although Barabino passed nearly the whole of his mature life at Florence, there are very few of his works to be seen there ; and indeed I know of none except the three lunettes over the western portals of the cathedral, the central one representing Christ enthroned, surrounded by the tutelary saints of Flor- ence, that over the right portal representing Faith, and that over the left portal Charity. I give these titles as they are commonly stated, although it is not at all obvious why the Madonna and the figures about her (who seem to represent the trade-guilds RECENT PAINTERS. 495 of Florence) above the right portal should be called Faith. The mosaics have very little of the archaic character about them, although they constitute part of the decoration of a Gothic cathedral. There is possibly a suggestion of the quattrocento in the architectural surroundings of the central figure in each lunette and in the lily which rises from the vase above the middle door, but the resemblance to the work of the early painters extends no farther than this. The coloring, once brilliant, is now dimmed by the coating of impurities which has been allowed to form over the surface. The original cartoons are preserved in the Cathedral Museum. In the same year (1887) in which the new fa9ade of the cathedral at Florence was unveiled, Barabino exhibited at Venice his now famous picture of the Madonna enthroned, to which he attached the motto Qtiasi oliva speciosa m campis. The picture was purchased by Queen Margherita and placed in her sleeping apartment at Monza. In 1891, upon spe- cial request of the Empress Frederick, her majesty allowed it to go to Berlin where it formed part of the Italian exhibit at the Berlin exposition of that year, and was highly praised by German critics. The picture contains only two figures, those of the Madonna and Child, the Madonna being shrouded in a single piece of white cloth which is brought over the head, fastened under the chin and crossed over the lap. The draperies beneath are black. 496 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. while the tapestry which forms the background is of pale lilac embroidered with gold. The only other colors are the yellow of the oranges, the green of the olive branches, and the gold and gray of the band of mosaic on the pedestal supporting the feet of the Madonna. The figures are life-size. The painting is encased in a frame of dull gilt with olive branches embossed upon it, and is hung against a wall which is covered with olive damask. No other modern religious picture, outside of the series of Biblical scenes by Morelli, has attained equal celebrity or become so universally familiar and so universally popular throughout Italy as this Madonna by Barabino. Small copies in color are frequently encountered and photographic reproduc- tions are seen everywhere. At Genoa there are several pictures by Barabino in places accessible to the public, the best of them being the large canvas representing the Last Moments of Carlo Emanuele I (of the House of Savoy) which now hangs in the large central room of the municipal gallery in the Palazzo Bianco. Barabino worked on this canvas up to the last days of his own life, and may have put the super-acute perceptions of a dying man into his rendering of the face of the dying duke. It is known that at the last moment his work seemed to him grossly inade- quate, for a letter of his is preserved in which he declared the picture to be a “ solenne porcheria.” His bitter disappointment at what he insisted MADONNA AND CHILD FROM THE PAINTING IJV RAKARINO IN THE ROYAL VILLA AT MONZA \ r\ ''i 1 RECENT PAINTERS. 497 upon regarding as his unsuccess undoubtedly hast- ened his end. He speaks himself, in the letter just referred to, of the wretched physical condition into which he had been precipitated by his dis- gust at his work, and it is known that he toiled away at his canvas far into the night of the last day of his life, only laying down his palette and brushes to rest for a few hours on the couch from which he was never to rise. Certainly no one but an expert would ever discover that the picture — which was presented by the King after the artist’s death to the city of Genoa — was unfinished. In coloring it is one of Barabino’s most charming can- vases. The dying Duke of Savoy sits, wrapped in an ermine mantle, at the right, and the Bishop of Chambery, in robes of yellow and white silk, stands before an improvised altar covered with white and with cloth of gold near the centre of the ducal bed- chamber. The combination of yellow, white, and golden tones is particularly beautiful and the ren- dering of textures is flawlessly perfect. Through what perplexities and doubts the artist passed be- fore arriving at this interpretation of his theme, is shown by the preliminary study in the National Gallery at Rome, exhibiting a totally different arrangement of the figures and a totally different scheme of coloring. Odoardo Gelli, who was born at Savona and who therefore belongs, like Barabino, to the Ligurian group of artists, has done some very good work, 498 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. especially as a portrait-painter. Gelli studied for several years at the Academy of Fine Arts at Lucca, but established himself at Florence in 1870 and has resided there since that date. As a young man, before he had attained to his present celebrity, he worked for a while as a lithographer and also prac- tised genre-painting with considerable popular suc- cess. As a rule his genre-pictures have a vein of humor running through them, often representing friars or monks in ludicrous situations; but he has also occasionally treated subjects of a more serious character, as is evidenced by the small canvas repre- senting Charles I in the studio of Van Dyck, now or until recently in the Pisani collection at Florence. In his portraits Gelli produces very brilliant and clever work without pushing his characterization to quite such an extreme as Boldini, or permitting himself the eccentricities of technique which are noted in the portraits of the older painter. Adolphe Monticelli, whose name attests his Ital- ian descent, may perhaps be mentioned with pro- priety at the conclusion of this chapter, despite the fact that he was born at Marseilles (1824) and never resided in Italy. Although his work is distin- guished, before everything else, for its total lack of form, it is a singular fact that his early tendencies were toward a severely formal type of art, and that his early ideal in painting was represented by the work of Ingres, whose insistence upon precision in drawing exceeded that of any other master of his RECENT PAINTERS. 499 time. The attraction of Ingres diminished, how- ever, as the student passed through the successive stages of his novitiate, and that of Diaz and other anti-formalists increased ; and in the end he reached an extreme of the formless and chaotic which no other painter had arrived at before him. Strange to say, the aberrations of Monticelli found a public during his lifetime (he died in 1886) and still find a public. Certain laymen in matters of art admire his pictures because they are so incomprehensible, and others, who cannot be charged with defective ^esthetic perceptions, find a genuine pleasure in contemplating his ingenious combinations of color and in straightening out the tangled web of his thought. The number of his canvases is very large ; inasmuch as no finish was required, he could turn them off rapidly, and when he felt in a pro- ductive mood could complete a picture in a few hours. Many collectors possess examples of his work, but as a rule his appreciators were either French, English, or American. In Italy little is heard of him, and his personality is almost as vague to the men of his own race as the half-hidden theme of some of his strange pictorial inventions. ' .;^Y' ; ' i I 1 . '1 PART III. ARCHITECTURE. V I CHAPTER XVI. ARCHITECTS OF THE CLASSIC MOVEMENT, AND THEIR CONTEMPORARIES AND SUCCESSORS. Architects of the classic movement. — Luigi Cagnola and the char- acter of his talent. — Circumstances of his birth and education. — He is employed to design a triumphal arch in honor of Eugene Beauharnais. — The arch made permanent and called the Arch of Peace. — Comparison with Roman arches; merits of Cagnola’s de- sign. — Other works of Cagnola. — Giuseppe Piermarini^ the archi- tect of the theatre of La Scala. — Carlo A umli and Giuseppe Zanoja^ the architects of the present fa9ade of the cathedral at Milan. — Outline of the history of the present fa9ade. — Manner in which Amati and Zanoja acquitted themselves of their task. — Other works by Amati. — Giuseppe Maria and his work at Modena and Venice. — Roman architects of the classic period. — Raphael Stern, the architect of the Braccio Nuovo at the Vatican. — Out- line of the career of Pas quale Belli. — His brief term of service as architect of the basilica of St. Paul at Rome. — He is succeeded by Luigi Poletti. — Tendency of Poletti toward a form of architectural purism. — Outline of his career prior to his connection with the rebuilding of St. Paul’s. — The condition of the basilica before the fire. — Changes introduced by Poletti in the interior. — Comments on his work. — His journey to Baveno and death at Milan. — His other works. Architecture holds a great and noble place in Italian art, and it would be impossible in a book, which purports to pass in review the art-history of the modern period, to wholly overlook what modern architects have accomplished. At the 503 504 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. same time I shall limit my survey to a few men and only mention those who have either been con- nected with some work of exceptional importance, or who have established their right to be regarded as leaders by the influence which they have ex- erted on the general development of architectural taste in their time. In view of the fact that much of the most im- portant architectural work of the present century has been executed upon ancient monuments in which all the world is interested, I shall not hesi- tate to include in my review those architects who have mainly devoted themselves to works of res- toration. If they have done well, their claim to our gratitude is quite as great as that of the architects who have occupied themselves with wholly new creations, and in any event we watch their work with solicitude and feel a natural desire to know what they have accomplished. Commencing with the architects of the classic movement the first whom I shall mention is Luigi Cagnola of Milan. Cagnola suffered like all the architects of this period from the dearth of commis- sions; but he designed one work of exceptional importance, the Arch of Peace at Milan, which offers a good illustration of the general architect- ural taste of his time, and also exhibits in a favor- able light the individual skill of its designer. Cagnola’s tendencies were preeminently toward elegance of form and nicety and precision of detail. THE OLDER ARCHITECTS. 505 If he had come to the front at a time when the rude picturesqueness of mediaeval architecture made the strongest appeal to the public taste, his talent would never have been fully appreciated. Fortunately it was his destiny to make his debut as an artist just as the classic movement had reached its first maturity, and he was thus naturally drawn toward the form of expression which was the best suited to display his skill, and at the same time found the public mind prepared in advance for his work, and ready to appraise it at its true value. Cagnola was of noble blood, bore by inheritance the title of Marquis, and, as it is said, never accepted any compensation for his services as an architect. He was born at Milan June 9, 1762, and was sent, when hardly more than a child, to the Collegio Cle- mentino at Rome, where he received his general education and also incidentally studied architecture. When he had become too mature to remain any longer in the Clementine College, he commenced a course of law studies at the University of Pavia, but still continued to occupy himself largely with the study of architecture. Returning to Milan, when his university course was completed, he established himself there permanently, and com- ported himself, so far as his rather limited means would allow, in a manner becoming his rank, hold- ing some minor public positions and occasionally furnishing the plans for a country house or some other unimportant building. His cleverness as an 5o6 history of modern ITALIAN ART. architectural designer was not generally discovered by the Milanese public until 1805, when he was given an opportunity to exhibit his skill in planning the interior decoration of the cathedral at Milan at the time of the coronation of Napoleon. It was made evident at that time, however, that Cagnola was a man of highly exceptional artistic taste, and the opinion then formed of his abilities was fully confirmed in the following year when the triumphal arch of wood, canvas, and plaster, which had been constructed from his drawings at the Porta Ori- entale to celebrate the entry into the city of the Viceroy Eugene Beauharnais and his bride, was exhibited to the public. The general admiration which his work aroused led the municipal council to order its erection in permanent materials; and it was as the result of this order that the Arch of Peace, as we now see it, came to exist. The site was changed to a more suitable location for a per- manent monument, — the western end of the Mil- anese Champ de Mars, which has been converted in recent years into a park, — but in its general lines the original design was never substantially changed. The actual work of erecting the struct- ure in marble proceeded slowly, and the architect did not live to see it completed. Commenced in 1807, it was continued at intervals until 1838, the year of the coronation of Ferdinand I of Austria at Milan, when it was virtually finished. The in- scription first placed upon it sounded the praises of ARCH OF PEACE AT MILAN FROM THE ORIGINAL RY CAGNOLA \ ,* V'v --'■ 1 ^, 0 , I THE OLDER ARCHITECTS. 507 the Emperor Francis I of Austria, but this was removed after the events of 1859, and the present more patriotic inscription substituted in its place. Cas:nola’s connection with the work is commemo- rated by the insertion of his name at the foot of the inscription, and by the introduction of a medallion portrait on the face of the bronze sestiga which crowns the summit, this last visible only to those who climb the narrow stairway which leads to the upper platform. Upon placing photographs of Cagnola s arch side by side with those of the arches of Septimius Se- verus and of Constantine at Rome, it will be seen that the Italian work surpasses the Roman work in elegance, both in its general lines and in its details. The general effect is made more elegant by a change in the proportions, the height being increased in proportion to the width and more of the total altitude being below the principal cornice. As a result of this alteration in the oreneral lines O the modern arch seems less heavy and ponderous that its Roman prototypes. In the details the superior elegance of Cagnola’s work is evident at every point. It is hardly fair to compare it with the Arch of Constantine, which is known to be largely a patchwork ; but its superiority over that of Septimius Severus may be fairly taken as an indication of the great advance in taste of the Italian workmen of the classic revival over the Latins of the decadence. Cagnola adjusted the 5o8 history of modern ITALIAN ART. height of the central arch with reference to the side arches so that the frieze continuing the line of the impost might pass above the key-stones, with results much more pleasing to the eye than in the case of the Roman arch. The large square panel which he introduced in the centre of the field above the side arches is also much more effective at a distance, and consequently much more monu- mental in character than the procession of minute figures occupying the corresponding space in the Arch of Septimius Severus. The lesser decorative details of the Milanese arch, such as the capitals, the carved mouldings, and the frieze below the main cornice, are all of refined design and nice workmanship. In order, however, not to give credit to Cagnola which is not his due, it should be stated that in these matters he exercised only a general control, the actual modelling of all of the relief-ornamentation being entrusted to sculptors and decorative experts. Domenico Moglia de- signed the greater part of the repeating ornament, and the sculptural panels were modelled by Mar- ches!, Cacciatori, Sangiorgio, and other leading sculptors of the day. Two other arches were designed by Cagnola for the city of Milan, and one of them — the original and rather interesting Porta Ticinese, bridging a canal — is still standing. The other was a tempo- rary structure erected at the Porta Venezia to cele- brate the entry of the Emperor of Austria into the THE OLDER ARCHITECTS. 509 city after the withdrawal of the French authorities. It was totally different in character from the Arch of Peace, being nearly cubical in form, and fortu- nately it has been perpetuated in the form of a large model in gilt bronze, now preserved in the Ambro- sian Library at Milan in a room adjoining the one containing the cartoon of Raphael’s School of Athens. Besides the works already mentioned Cagnola built a circular church at Ghisalba (1822- 1833) and a detached campanile at Urgnano (1824- 1829), — this last being a graceful structure with an open upper story ornamented with caryatides carved by Pompeo Marchesi. In the construction of the dome of the church at Ghisalba no supporting framework was used, the successive courses of masonry being laid directly out into the air, to the great marvel, as it is said, of the country folk of the neighborhood. In 1814 Cagnola prepared the plans and later commenced the construction of a villa for himself at Inverigo in the style of the Palladian Villa Capra; but died August 14, 1833, before he had completed it. After Cagnola I am unable to mention any other Milanese architect ^ of the same period who pro- ^ Giuseppe Piermarini, who was born at Foligno July i8, 1734, and who was a pupil of Vanvitelli, held for several years after 1770 the position of court architect at Milan. He took charge of certain altera- tions which were effected in the last part of the last century in the Royal Palace at Milan and designed the Royal Villa at Monza. He also furnished the plans for the theatre of La Scala, which was com- pleted in 1778. Piermarini seems to have had a mathematical rather HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. 510 duced any work in which the public now takes an exceptional interest except Carlo Amati who de- signed, in collaboration with Giuseppe Zanoja, certain portions of the present fa9ade of the Milan- ese cathedral. The reader who is not thoroughly informed as to the history of that venerable edifice will be surprised at finding any allusion to its pres- ent fa9ade in these pages. But it is a fact that the front which we see to-day was, for the most part, built in the present century, and that when the century opened the end of the cathedral toward the square presented nothing except an unsightly expanse of masonry with no ornamentation above the level of the doors and windows of the first two stories. These doors and windows, which still remain as they were then, were designed by Pellegrino Pelle- grini, one of the leading architects of the last part of the sixteenth century and a passionate admirer of the Roman architectural style of his own time. than an artistic mind. In the general plan of his buildings, in the dis- tribution and arrangement of the interior spaces, and in general in the utilitarian features of his work he produced satisfactory results ; but he was not equally strong in decoration. The exterior of the Scala theatre is without originality and shows only a rather clumsy appli- cation of familiar decorative motives to a building with which they have no organic connection. His position as court architect gave him a certain prestige and enabled him to obtain a number of important pri- vate commissions. By appointment of the Austrian authorities at Milan (1776) he held for a while the professorship of architecture at the Academy of the Brera, resigning this position in 1799. In the same year he terminated his residence in Milan and returned to Foligno, where he died in 1808. THE OLDER ARCHITECTS. 51 1 This style is so completely out of favor at the pres- ent day that we find it difficult to understand how it could ever have won any popularity at all, much less how the authorities of the cathedral could have been so completely carried away with it as to wish to apply it to a Gothic structure. The cathedral authorities did, however, wish this ; and it is even asserted that Pellegrini thought of going farther and of extending the ponderous entablature of the classic front along the sides of the building, to bind the new and the old constructions together. After Pellegrini’s death Carlo Buzzi, who became archi- tect in 1638, advocated a partial return to the Gothic style, and under his administration (1638-- 1658) were built or commenced the lower portions of the Gothic buttresses which now flank the cen- tral portal. After the death of Buzzi no additions of any importance were made until 1805, when Napoleon, by imperial and royal decree, ordered the fa9ade to be completed. The duty of determining the design was at that time officially turned over to the Academy of Fine Arts at Milan, and that insti- tution after something more than a year of delib- eration approved (January 26, 1807) the project of Carlo Amati and Giuseppe Zanoja. There is very little to be learned as to the per- sonal history of Zanoja. He is put down in the list of officers and instructors of the Academy of the Brera as having held the post of professor of architecture from. 1805 ui^til 1817, and that of sec- 512 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. retary from 1807 until 1817. As the title of Canon is prefixed to his name, it appears that he was edu- cated for the church. Caimi speaks of him as a poet of ability and a facile writer. Beside collabo- rating in the project for the fa9ade of the cathedral, he was also the author of the design for the Porta Nuova erected at Milan in 1812. Carlo Amati was born at Monza in 1776, was for thirty-four years (1818-1852) professor of architecture at the Brera, wrote a book on the antiquities of Milan (1822), and beside being connected with the work of completing the fa9ade of the cathedral furnished the designs for the circular church of S. Carlo Borromeo, which is at present the most notable structure on the Corso Vittorio Emanuele at Milan. In undertaking the task of completing the fa9ade of the cathedral — a task which was brought to a conclusion in 1813 — Amati and Zanoja found themselves in the situation of a tailor who is obliged to make over an old garment in a new style. They were hampered by so many limitations in the fabric as it was handed over to them that they could pro- duce nothing which was entirely satisfactory either to themselves or to the public. The necessity of cutting the expense down to the lowest possible limits — Napoleon had decreed that the outlay should not exceed one-half of the sum which would be required to carry out the old design — compelled them to leave the doors and the lower windows as they found them, and forced them to build the bases THE OLDER ARCHITECTS. 513 of the remaining buttresses in the same style as those flanking the central portal. The only part of the field in which they moved freely was in the designing of the upper part of the buttresses, and in determining the general form and the details of the front above the level of the first tier of windows. Their design, even here, is not in strict harmony with the style of the sides of the cathedral, and such as it is, the credit of it must be shared by Amati and Zanoja with some of the earlier architects, more particularly with Felice Soave, from whose design they borrowed a part of the features which they introduced in their own work. The present front, as a whole, has this peculiar character: first, it is the work of three different epochs; and, second, the part of the work which was executed in the present century is not a wholly original design of the men who were given the credit for it, but a design partly original and partly compiled from the drawings of previous architects. The church of S. Carlo Borromeo, which shows what Amati could accomplish when he was un- hampered by any embarrassing conditions, is one of the churches which were built while architects still continued to regard the Pantheon as the most ideally perfect model of a temple. But this is about as unsuccessful a reproduction of the Pantheon as could be found in Italy, the cheapness of the interior finish being sufficient in itself to destroy any beauty of effect which might otherwise result from the ele- 514 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. gance of the architectural lines. The church of S. Francesco di Paola at Naples, designed by the archi- tect Bianchi, is a very much better specimen of a work of this class, and is, I think, the best example of a modern church in the style of the Pantheon to be found in Italy. On the exterior it is a very tame and insignificant looking structure, despite the long colonnades ; but the interior is really imposing. The diameter of the rotunda is larger than that of the church of S. Carlo at Milan, the architectural details are much more elegant and refined, and the sculptural decorations were executed in honest materials by the leading artists of the day. Possibly it is my duty to make some reference here to Giuseppe Maria Soli, an architect who enjoyed a certain distinction in the early part of the present century without having been connected with any works of much importance except the building of an extension of the Ducal Palace at Modena and of the Royal Palace at Venice. Soli was born at Vignola near Modena June 23, 1745, and devoted himself to the study of painting before commencing the study of architecture. He was protected by Count Malvasia, who sent him to Bo- logna to continue his artistic studies, and it was here that he received his training as a builder. The city of Modena afterward assigned him a pension which enabled him to pursue certain studies at Rome, and in 1784 the Duke of Modena entrusted to him the organization of the local Academy of THE OLDER ARCHITECTS. 515 Fine Arts of which he became director, beside hold- ing the professorship of architecture. He was protected by the French government during the period of French dominion in Italy, and was placed in charge of the construction of the wing of the Royal Palace at Venice which ex- tends across the end of the square of St. Mark’s opposite the basilica, and occupies in part the site of the ancient church of S. Giminiano. After the expulsion of the French from Italy he returned to Modena, and resumed his functions as professor in the Academy. In 1821 he was placed upon the retired list and died October 20, 1823, The part of the palace at Modena which Soli designed is imposing in its lines, substantial in its materials, and elegant in its details, though the ornament seems meagre to one familiar with the more elaborate decoration used in similar cases by French, German, and English architects. His work at Venice required him to make no very large drafts upon his imagination. Upon a careful ex- amination of the front of the wing of the Royal Palace which he built it will be seen that the first two stories are copied literally from those of the sixteenth century fa9ade of the Procuratie Nuove. The opposite front of the Soli wing, toward the Telegraph Office, is very plain and severe, orna- mented only by a few simple pilasters. It is doubt- ful if one out of a thousand of the visitors to Venice ever stops for a moment to observe it. The open 5i6 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. passage which passes directly beneath Soli’s con- struction is tastefully decorated, in harmony with the first story of the fa9ade toward the square, with branches of laurel and of oak carved in the span- drels of the arches. At Rome no original and independent architect- ural work, worthy of occupying a place among the great monuments of the eternal city, was produced between the date of the rise of the classic movement and its decline in 1820. Among important addi- tions to existing buildings which were in whole or in part constructed during that period, I may, how- ever, mention the Braccio Nuovo of the Vatican, which was designed and partly executed by Raphael Stern, and was finally completed by Pasquale Belli. The Braccio Nuovo, which now forms a part of the sculpture gallery, is a good illustration of the archi- tectural style of the period. No attempt was made to make it conform with exactness to the style of the other parts of the building to which it was an- nexed. It was naively designed in strict accordance with the classic principles which just then dominated every branch of art, and may be regarded as an architectural expression of the same set of ideas which found plastic and graphic expression in the marbles of Canova and the canvases of Camuccini. Stern died January 30, 1820, before his work was completed, and Pasquale Belli, who stood next in rank after Stern among the Roman architects, was appointed director of the work in his place. THE OLDER ARCHITECTS. 517 Belli was born at Rome December 3, 1752. Dis- closing some artistic talent when a boy, he was allowed to commence the study of painting in the studio of Laurent Pecheux; but becoming con- vinced that his particular aptitude lay rather in the direction of architecture than of painting, he left the atelier of Pecheux and entered the studio of Pietro Camporese. He afterward assisted Cam- porese in some of the latter’s architectural works, among them being an arch built in honor of Pius VI at Subiaco. After leaving Camporese, Belli found almost nothing to do, and seems to have had no connection with any architectural undertaking of any consequence until he was called upon to succeed Stern in the direction of the work on the Braccio Nuovo; and, in completing this structure, he only carried out the plans of his predecessor. His only original work, so far as I can learn, was the crypt which he designed for the Franciscans at Assisi after the discovery of the bones of the saint in 1818. The crypt is in the classic style in the form of a Greek cross, with a vault supported by paired Doric columns, and is entered by a double stairway from the lower church. Of course the adoption of this style involved an open conflict with the Gothic architecture of the rest of the edifice ; but to the mind of the Roman builders of the day, the principles of classic art were the only ones which could possibly lead to satisfactory results, and they were consequently adopted in almost every case, re- 5i8 history of modern ITALIAN ART. gardless of any considerations of harmony in the final effect. After the burning of the basilica of St. Paul at Rome in 1823 Belli was appointed to take charge of the rebuilding of the church, and held the posi- tion of architect-in-chief from September 18, 1825, until his death October 31, 1833. He was seventy- two years old at the time when he received this ap- pointment, and apparently was unfitted, both by his age and by certain peculiarities of temperament, from accomplishing anything of consequence as the director of so vast an undertaking. I find it stated that he purchased new timbers for the roof and collected some other materials, but did nothing further except to pull down the weakened arch of Galla Placidia and replace it with a firmer structure. Let it be noted to his credit that, in removing the original arch, he carefully preserved the great mosaic with which it was covered, and thus saved, for the admiration of future generations, the only feature of the nave of the present basilica, which goes back of the middle ages, and which occupies now the same place which it did before the fire. Belli was succeeded in the direction of the work at St. Paul’s by Luigi Poletti, who stood for many years at the head of the Roman architects of his time. Poletti was perhaps not a man of highly exceptional talent, but he was the virtual creator of the work in which the public now take a larger interest than in any other Italian architectural THE OLDER ARCHITECTS. 519 work of the present century. He was the friend of Tenerani, and his ideas in art were the ideas of the generation which followed that of Canova. The particular tendencies of this generation in architect- ure would lack a definition if they did not find it in Poletti s work itself. Speaking generally, the ten- dency was away from the strictly classic forms of the ancient Roman monuments, and toward the modified classicism of the builders of the early renaissance. The style which Poletti invented was a form of purism in architecture, which had its sculptural counterpart in the work of Tenerani, and its pictorial counterpart in the work of Mussini. Poletti was born at Modena October 28, 1792, and received his education in the schools of that city and in the University of Bologna, where he distinguished himself by his proficiency in mathe- matics. In 1817 he obtained an appointment as government engineer, which took him to Castel- nuovo, near Lucca, and from Castelnuovo he re- moved to Rome in 1818 upon receiving a pension for art study from the Duke of Modena. At Rome he studied architecture under Stern and Camporese, and in 1828 made a journey abroad, visiting Paris and London, and making the acquaintance at Paris of the French architect and architectural writer, Le Tarouilly. In 1832 he received his first impor- tant architectural commission, being sent by the papal government to Umbria to take charge of the restorations at the church of S. Maria deMi Ano^eli O ■ I '( INDEX. '4 f \ INDEX. Ala Ponzoni, Marquis, 305, 333, 334. Albano, Salvatore, 180 n. Alberti, Achille, 233 n. Alemagna, Emilio, 559. Altamura, 218. Amalfi, 365. Amati, Carlo, 510-513. Ancona, 325, 326, 328, 330. Andreoni, Orazio, 214 n. Angeli, Diego, 424. Anzoletti, Luisa, 312. Apolloni, Adolfo, 213 Appiani, Andrea, 53, 28j-28g, 325, 419 n. Arezzo : Cathedral, 278, 279, 280, 282 n. Piazza Umberto, 119 n. Arnolfo, ii6, 531, 538. Asolo, Villa Falier, 10, 12, 13, 49. Assisi, 120 n., 125, 517, 520. Azzurri, Francesco, 568 n. Baccani, Gaetano, 532. Bagatti-Valsecchi, Pietro, 327. Balzico, Alfonso, 162. Barabino, Niccolo, 203, 223, 379, 409, 460, 49 ^- 497 - Barbella, Costantino, 1 77-179. Barbengo, 145. Barrias, L. E., 206. Bartolini, Lorenzo, 5, 6i-gj, 100, 102, 104, 1 14, 1 16, 1 19, 126, 138, 145, 193, 342, 343, 367, 372, 419 n. Barzaghi, Francesco, 225-227. Basile, Ernesto, 571. Basile, Giovan Battista, 570-573. Bastia, 71. Battoni, Pompeo, 270, 275, 297. Bayer, Giuseppe, 54, 132. Beauharnais, Prince Eugene, 105, 286, 506. Bedini, Paolo, 449 n. Belli, Luigi, 243. Belli, Pasquale, 520. Belliazzi, Raffaele, 159, 161 n. Bellini, Vincenzo, 201. Beltrami, Luca, 558-560. Benvenuti, Pietro, 2^8-282^ 301, 419 n. Beretta, Giuseppe, 287. Bergamo, 166. Bernardi, Giuseppe, 10, ii. Bernini, Giovanni Lorenzo, 6, 12, 13, 194, 567- Berry, Mary, 72, 73. Bertini, Giuseppe, 83, 353, 465, 467- 4dg 71. Bezzuoli, Giuseppe, 79, 282 «., 301, 447- Bianchi, P., 514. Bienaime, Luigi, 104 w. Bisi, Giuseppe, 467. Bistolfi, Lorenzo, 242. Boito, Arrigo, 548 n. Boito, Camillo, 378, 405, 446, 5^6- _ 553 ^ 560. Boito, Silvestro, 547. Boldini, Giovanni, 486-488, 498. Bologna : Cassa di Risparmio, 543, 544. Certosa, 148. Palazzo Cavazza, 540. Piazza Vittorio Emanuele, 203. Bompiani, Roberto, 409, 410. 577 578 HISTORY OF MODERN ITALIAN ART. Bonaparte, Princess Elisa, 68, 262. Bonaparte, Princess Mathilde, 85 «. Bonghi, Ruggero, 184. Bonheur, Rosa, 371-372. Bonnat, L. J. F., 417. Bonolis, Giuseppe, 368. Borghesi, Gian Battista, 31. Borgo S. Sepulcro, 218. Bortone, Antonio, 779 2I4«., 215. Bossi, Giuseppe, 53. Botticelli, Sandro, 428. Bouguereau, W. A., 410. Branca, Giulio, 228. Brentano, Giuseppe, S^O. Brescia : Cathedral, 57 71. Tosio Gallery, 56, 92, 117, 276, 282 315, 325. Bristol, Earl of, see Derry, Bishop of. Brown, Ford Madox, 291-293, 405, 406. Browning, Robert, 238. Brunelleschi, Filippo, 116, 524. Bruno, Giordano, 207. Burne-Jones, Sir Edward, 406, 422, 423, 426, 427, 430. Butti, Enrico, 228. Buzzi, Carlo, 511. Byron, Lord, 78, 314 n., 347, 348. Cacciatori, Benedetto, J2g-ij2j 140, 508. Cacciatori, Lodovico, 129. Cadenabbia, Villa Carlotta, 25, 26, 27, 52, 318, 320. Caesar, Julius, 183, 190, 252. Caggiano, Emanuele, 161 n., 168. Cagnola, Marquis Luigi, 53, 131, 504-509- Caimi, Antonio, 226, 512. Cairoli, Enrico, 21 1. Cairoli, Giovanni, 21 1. Calandra, Davide, 243. Calderini, Guglielmo, 565-567. Calderini, Marco, 491. Cambi, Ulisse, 118 120 214 n. Cammarano, Michele, 386, 387. Camogli, 492 w., 493. Camporese, Pietro, 517, 519. Campori, Marquis, 45, 522. Camuccini, Baron Giovanni Battista, 269. Camuccini, Baron Vincenzo, 27, 28, 41, 60, 1 14, 247-273, 278, 324, 419 71 ., 516. Canaris, Costantino, 182. Canova, Antonio, 3-50, 57, 61, 62, 82, 103, 193, 196, 315, 317, 324, 419 7 t., 516. Canova, Pasin, 10. Cantalupo, 60, 260, 269, 270. Canzio, Michele, 126. Carcano, Filippo, 376, 471-474, 482 71 . Carducci, G. B., 563. Carducci, Giosue, 95, 448. Carlo Alberto, 130, 134, 147, 220, 318. Carlo Felice, 130. Carnielo, Rinaldo, 214 w. Carotti, Giulio, 150, 289, 473. Carradori, Francesco, 51. Carrara, 68, 112. Carrea, Bartolomeo, 128. Cartel, Luigi, 214 w. Casnedi, Raffaele, 468. Cassioli, Amos, 409, 430-433, 441 n. Cassioli, Giuseppe, 431. Castelvetro, 457, 458. Catania, 201, Cavour, Count Camillo Benso di, 120 71 ., 124, 148, 242, 365. Ceccon, Luigi, 483, 484. Celentano, Bernardo, 379, 381-383, , 409, 410, 412, 480. Cellini, Benvenuto, ii8«. Centelli, Attilio, 15, 17, 18, 35, 1 70, 176, 484, 485. Cesa-Bianchi, Paolo, 560 7t. Cevasco, Giovanni Battista, 127 «. Chiaradia, Enrico, 213 ti, 242 «., 550, 561. Ciaranfi, Giuseppe, 484. INDEX. 579 Ciardi, Guglielmo, 482 «. Ciceri, Eugene, 450. Cicognara, Count Leopoldo, 45, 46. Cifariello, Filippo, 213 Ciseri, Antonio, 336 n. Civiletti, Benedetto, 180-188. Classicism, 6-8, 247, 504. Clement XIII, Pope, 22, 23, 49, 213 n. Clement XIV, Pope, 20, 21, 49. Coghetti, Francesco, 331, 332, Colonna, Vittoria, 166,416. Columbus, Christopher, 126, 127, 197, 213, 493- Como, 54. Consani, Vincenzio, iign., 214 n. Corcos, Vittorio, 447, 448. Cornelius, Peter von, 291, 293, 314 w. Corot, J. B. C., 450, Correggio, 7, 153, 250, 259, 285. Corsi, Angelo, 65. Cortese, Federigo, igS, jy8-jy