Venice

by Clara Erskine Clement Waters

Vasari and Ridolfi concur in the account of the bold manner in which Tintoretto bore off the prize in a contest at the Scuola di San Rocco. This was the most interesting and the richest of the Scuole; and the Brotherhood, having obtained the relics of the saint, albeit in a manner not to be commended, had built their fine church and Scuola in his honor. From Antonio Grimani to the fall of the Republic, the Doges were enrolled in this order, and the Confraternity of San Rocco was a liberal patron of art. Mrs. Jameson gives this account of the acquisition of the relics:—

"In the year 1485 the Venetians, who from their commerce with the Levant were continually exposed to the visitation of the plague, determined to possess themselves of the relics of S. Roch. The conspirators sailed to Montpellier, under pretence of performing a holy pilgrimage, and carried off the body of the saint, with which they returned to Venice, and were received by the Doge, the Senate, the clergy, and all the people with inexpressible joy."

When on one occasion the Brotherhood of San Rocco demanded cartoons for a picture they wished to have painted from five celebrated artists, Tintoretto secretly measured the space, and painted the scene in a few days. When the day of competition arrived, he managed to fasten his canvas in the place for the intended decoration and covered it; and when the other designs had been displayed, he snatched the covering from his picture, and electrified all present. The judges were as angry as the competitors, and told the painter that they had met to judge of cartoons, and not to have a picture forced on them. Tintoretto replied that this was his only method of design; that designs and models should always be so executed that the full effect of the completed work could be seen; and, finally, he said that he set no price on his picture, which he wished to present to them. As they were not permitted to refuse a gift to their saint, they were forced to keep it.

At length, the excitement having passed, the larger number of votes was cast in favor of Tintoretto, and he was formally appointed to do all that was necessary for the decoration of the Scuola, receiving a hundred ducats a year during his life, and promising to paint for it one picture annually. The picture which he nailed to the roof while his rivals made their drawings may still be seen there. It was executed in 1560, and represents "The Apotheosis of Saint Roch."

Thus it happened that the Lower and Upper Halls, the Staircase and the Albergo of the Scuola became galleries of the works of Tintoretto, while still others are in the Church of San Rocco. When the Scuola was finished, it became, in a sense, a school of painting. Ridolfi says it was—

"the resort of the studious in painting, and in particular of all the foreigners from the other side of the Alps who came to Venice at that time: Tintoretto's works serving as examples of composition, of grace, and harmony of design, of the management of light and shade, and force and freedom of color; and, in short, of all that can be called most accurate, and can best exhibit the gifts of the ingenious painter."

All over Venice his works exist,—in the humblest chapels and sacristies, as well as in the Hall of the Great Council; and yet many have been burned, have perished by neglect, or have become indistinguishable with time.

It is a curious fact that of all the Venetian school of painters there were but two born in Venice,—Giovanni Bellini and Tintoretto; and yet, so perfectly have the others suited themselves to her atmosphere that we feel their art to be hers individually, in perfect accord with her spirit and her needs.

So, in architecture, Scamozzi, Palladio, Sansovino, and San Micheli were all born on the mainland; not one of them first saw the light in Venice. But who that stands in the Piazza, or passes up and down the Grand Canal, feels for a moment that any other architecture would have suited Venice, or that this would please us were it reproduced elsewhere? Assuredly Mediæval Venice possessed a charm which worked its spell on all who dwelt within her borders, which enabled her to impress them with her own signet, and draw out in her service the best that was in them. Venice was of old an enchantress; and in spite of years and the many maladies from which she has suffered, she has not yet lost her spell. The charm is still there. It is over you while within her borders, and fills you with delight. It surges around you from time to time when you are far, far away, and you long to be with her again as you long for the beloved faces into which you cannot look, and which distance and time make no less dear.

You shut your eyes on what is near you, and you think of the shimmer of her lagoons, the pearly tints of the cool hours of day, and the rosy, golden atmosphere of the warmer time. Her domes and palaces rise before you. You almost feel the motion of the gondola as you sweep around a curve, and a new and fascinating vista reveals itself. You hear a soft, musical language, or listen to the well-known cries of the gondoliers and the distant song or serenade, and you echo the words of Saint Victor: "Other cities have admirers; Venice alone has lovers."