1034. THE NATIVITY OF CHRIST.
Sandro Botticelli (Florentine: 1447-1510).
The family surname of Sandro (Alessandro, or Alexander) was Filipepi. "He was apprenticed when a lad to a goldsmith, called Botticello (for he obstinately refused to learn either to read, write, or sum); of which master we know only that he so formed this boy that thenceforward the boy thought it right to be called Botticello's Sandro, and nobody else's (in Italian Sandro di Botticello, abbreviated into Sandro Botticelli).[203] Having learned prosperously how to manage gold, he took a fancy to know how to manage colour, and was put under the best master in Florence, the Monk Lippi" (see 666). Some characteristics of Lippi's art—its union of a buoyant spirit of life and enjoyment with simplicity and tenderness of religious feeling—are seen in the pupil. But he added in his turn marked characteristics of his own, which are noticed in detail under his several pictures here. "Where Fra Filippo was all repose, Sandro was all movement." Moreover, Botticelli's range of subject was very wide—embracing Venus crowned with roses and the Virgin crowned by Christ, the birth of Love (at Florence), and the birth of the Saviour. Botticelli, says Ruskin, is "the only painter of Italy who understood the thoughts of Heathens and Christians equally, and could in a measure paint both Aphrodite and the Madonna. So that he is, on the whole, the most universal of painters; and, take him all in all, the greatest Florentine workman" (Fors Clavigera, 1872, xxii. 2). He was, we are told, persona sofistica, and lived on terms of intimacy with members of the Florentine Platonic Academy. The speculations which he shared with the poet Matteo Palmieri are enshrined in his "Assumption" (No. 1126), painted about 1475. In 1481 he executed a series of designs for Landino's edition of Dante: these wonderful drawings, formerly in the Hamilton Collection, are now at Berlin. "By this time," says Ruskin, "he was accounted so good a divine, as well as painter, that Pope Sixtus IV. sent for him to be master of the works in his new (Sistine) chapel—where the first thing my young gentleman does, mind you, is to paint the devil, in a monk's dress, tempting Christ! The sauciest thing, out and out, done in the history of the Reformation, it seems to me; yet so wisely done, and with such true respect otherwise shown for what was sacred in the Church, that the Pope didn't mind; and all went on as merrily as marriage bells." The history of Moses—the subject of his other fresco in the Sistine Chapel—"teems with his exuberant power and displays great grandeur of landscape." In the same chapel are also 28 portraits of Popes by Botticelli. "And having thus obtained great honour and reputation, and considerable sums of money, he squandered all the last away. And at this time, Savonarola beginning to make himself heard, and founding in Florence the company of the Piagnoni (Mourners or Grumblers, as opposed to the men of pleasure), Sandro made a Grumbler of himself, being then some forty years old; fell sadder, wiser, and poorer day by day; until he became a poor bedesman of Lorenzo de' Medici; and having gone some time on crutches, being unable to stand upright, died peacefully" (Ariadne Florentina, Lecture VI.; Fors Clavigera, 1872, xxii. 2-6).
Few things are more curious in the history of taste than the vicissitudes of Botticelli's fame. In his own day he had been much esteemed, but his reputation was soon eclipsed. In 1602 a decree was issued by the Grand Duke of Tuscany prohibiting the inhabitants of Florence from removing important works of art, for "neither the city nor the land itself is to be despoiled of the masterpieces of eminent painters." The schedule of eccellenti pittori contains nineteen names, among which that of Filippino Lippi, Botticelli's pupil, is included, but not Botticelli himself.[204] The rediscovery of Botticelli has fallen to our country and generation. The influence of Rossetti, the example of Burne-Jones, the famous essay of Pater, and the enthusiasm of Ruskin, have established a cult of Botticelli which in earlier generations would have passed for a mild lunacy.[205] Goldsmith, had he witnessed it, might have substituted the name of Botticelli for that of Perugino in his satire on fashionable æstheticism. The poetical imagination of Botticelli, his inventive design, the strong sense of life which glows through all his pictures, are truly admirable. But what lends additional force to his vogue is the seal of intimité which is set upon his work. Botticelli treats his themes, says Burton "with a verve, a naïveté, and pathos peculiar to himself." Besides the very greatest men, there is (says Pater) "a certain number of artists who have a distinct faculty of their own by which they convey to us a peculiar quality of pleasure which we cannot get elsewhere, and these, too, have their place in general culture. Of this select number Botticelli is one; he has the freshness, the uncertain and diffident promise which belongs to the earlier Renaissance itself, and makes it perhaps the most interesting period in the history of the mind; in studying his work one begins to understand to how great a place in human culture the art of Italy had been called."
The other pictures by Botticelli in the National Gallery (see 275, 1126, and 915) adequately represent his earlier phases; this one completes the story of his life—painted as it was under Savonarola's influence—
Wrought in the troublous times of Italy
By Sandro Botticelli, when for fear
Of that last judgment, and last day drawn near
To end all labour and all revelry,
He worked and prayed in silence.
Andrew Lang: Ballads and Lyrics, etc.
This beautiful and curious picture is very characteristic of Botticelli's genius. It is full of highly wrought emotion—note "the fervour of the still Madonna as she kneels before the Child, the extraordinary nervous tension which the artist has managed to suggest in the seated figure of Joseph, the rapture and ecstasy of the angels"; the picture is full also, as we shall see, of mystic symbolism, but all is crowned and harmonised by a sense of pictorial daintiness and beauty. The centre of the picture is occupied by the familiar subject of the Nativity, and the accessories suggest in symbolic fashion the effects of Christ's Advent upon the good and the evil respectively. The theological symbolism may be seen in the gesture of the divine Child pointing to his mouth—typifying that he was the Word of God. So at the bottom of the picture there are devils running, at Christ's coming, into chinks of the rocks (those who are Christ's must put away "the works of darkness"); whilst the shepherds and angels embracing signify the reconciliation such as Savonarola wished to effect between heaven and earth. On either side of the central group angels are telling the glad tidings "of peace on earth, goodwill towards men." Note the symmetry in this part of the picture; the three Magi on the left, the three shepherds in adoration on the right; and in colour, the red frock of the angel on the right, the red wings on the left. Meanwhile in the sky above is a lovely choir of Botticelli's floating angels, dancing between earth and heaven, on a golden background suffused with light. The picture is, says Ruskin, "a quite perfect example of what the masters of the pure Greek school did in Florence.... The entire purpose of the picture is a mystic symbolism by motion and chiaroscuro. By motion, first. There is a dome of burning clouds in the upper heaven. Twelve angels half float, half dance, in a circle, round the lower vault of it. All their drapery is drifted so as to make you feel the whirlwind of their motion. They are seen by gleams of silvery or fiery light, relieved against an equally lighted blue of inimitable depth and loveliness. It is impossible for you ever to see a more noble work of passionate Greek chiaroscuro—rejoicing in light" (Lectures on Landscape, § 58). The introduction in the same picture of the solemn teaching below, with these beautiful angel forms above, suggests precisely what Ruskin has defined to be Botticelli's position among pictorial reformers. "He was what Luther wished to be, but could not be—a reformer still believing in the Church; his mind is at peace, and his art therefore can pursue the delight of beauty and yet remain prophetic." "He was not a preacher of new doctrines, but a witness against the betrayal of old ones."
The first and more obvious intention of Botticelli's painted sermon was, as we have seen, to show the effects of the Advent upon the good and the evil. But he has also a particular application, an esoteric meaning. The clue to this is afforded by the Greek inscription at the top, which, being interpreted, is—
"This picture I, Alexander, painted at the end of the year 1500, in the troubles of Italy, in the half-time after the time during the fulfilment of the eleventh of St. John, in the Second Woe of the Apocalypse, in the loosing of the devil for three years and a half. Afterwards he shall be confined, and we shall see him trodden down, as in this picture."
"In the troubles of Italy, at the end of the year 1500." Now, on May 12, 1497, exactly three years and a half before the date of Botticelli's inscription, Savonarola was burnt alive (as depicted on the little panel, No. 1301); and his death, says the historian, "meant for Florence the triumph of all that was most corrupt; vice was everywhere rampant, and virtuous living was utterly despised." But in the faith of Botticelli, the reverent disciple of Savonarola, this tyranny of the Evil One was doomed to pass away. He saw "in the troubles of Italy" a fulfilment of the awful words to which his inscription refers us in the eleventh chapter of the Revelation of St. John the Divine:—
The holy city shall they tread under foot forty and two months. And I will give power unto my two witnesses, and they shall prophesy. These are the two olive trees. And when they shall have finished their testimony, the beast that ascendeth out of the bottomless pit shall make war against them, and shall overcome them, and kill them. And they that dwell upon the earth shall rejoice over them, and make merry, and shall send gifts one to another; because these two prophets tormented them that dwelt on the earth. And after three days and an half the Spirit of life from God entered into them, and they stood upon their feet; and great fear fell upon them which saw them. And they heard a great voice from heaven saying unto them, Come up hither. And they ascended up to heaven in a cloud; and their enemies beheld them. The second woe is past. And there were great voices in heaven, saying, The kingdoms of this world are become the kingdoms of our Lord, and of his Christ; and he shall reign for ever and ever.
To the elect, then, Botticelli meant his picture to show the fulfilment of the prophecy by the Second Advent of Christ, and the final triumph of Savonarola. The men embraced by angels are in this reading of the picture the "witnesses" to whom the spirit of life was returned; they are welcomed back to earth by angels, ere they are rapt heavenward. They bear olive boughs, because in the Apocalypse olive trees are symbolical of the Lord's anointed ones. "There is but one point which seems at variance with the Biblical text: in it two witnesses are spoken of, here there are three. This deviation was doubtless intentional. When Savonarola died, two others shared his palm of martyrdom, Fra Domenico Buonvicini and Fra Silvestre Marussi. The three figures crowned with myrtle represent the three risen and glorified martyrs" (Richter's Lectures on the National Gallery, p. 61. See also Mr. Sidney Colvin's article in the Portfolio, Feb. 1879).