Anderson photo] [Sixtine Chapel, Rome
THE JOURNEY OF MOSES
The scene on the opposite wall of the “Baptism of Christ” is much fuller of figures than the “Journey of Moses.” Separated incidents are more largely made use of, in the archaic mode which the artists of the Renaissance soon after this abandoned. That the central figures are a copy of Perugino’s “Baptism” at Rouen need be no argument that the latter had an active share in it himself. The angels overhead are the same that Perugino and all his school have reproduced many times, and this interchange or imitation was merely a proper compliment between master and pupil. Pintoricchio here owes no more to Perugino than the latter does to Verrocchio, of whose “Baptism,” in Florence, with the angels kneeling by, we are strongly reminded. St. John is a type of great freshness and individuality: the long lean form has simplicity and directness of action, the shape of hand and foot, the blacker and more angular draperies, are all unlike the master and like the pupil. St. John pours the water with a painstaking, literal intention. In the frescoes by Perugino at Foligno and at Rouen, his eyes are raised, his body thrown gracefully on one side, and the little cup is raised aloft with a sort of symbolical wave, while the contemplative angels kneeling around are very unlike Pintoricchio’s prim little attendants.
In the groups in the background on either hand, listening to the preaching of the Baptist and the Saviour, only one, the St. John on the left, with head raised and inclined and hand on breast, reminds us at all of Perugino. We have a great many of the figures the younger master is so fond of, turning their backs and enveloped in the voluminous folds of great cloaks—a motif which is not common with Perugino, but which Pintoricchio makes lavish use of in the Libreria, and which he derives from Fiorenzo, who often brings it in. Here we find the seated woman, for which he has left the drawing, who, with the children clinging to her, looks up and listens to the Baptist on the right, and who, in her gracefully swathed garments, is beautiful enough for the pencil of Botticelli or Agostino di Duccio. We also find a study for the nude figure at the back with outstretched hand. These nudes are among Bernardino’s few attempts at anatomical drawing, to which he never takes kindly. We cannot say that they show much real acquaintance with form, though it is evident that they are from the living model, which at this time he was faithfully seeking to render. Many of the portraits are admirable. It would be difficult to find stronger, more satisfactory heads, more solid in drawing and more full and interesting in expression, than three or four of the heads in the group standing a little way behind Christ, or the old man grasping his napkin on the opposite side, in whom Dr. Steinmann suggests we see the Pope’s brother-in-law, Giovanni Basso della Rovere, who died this year, and whose shrewd features and close shut mouth we recognise again in his tomb in Santa Maria del Popolo. The deepest interest of the picture centres in these fine portraits of men of the time, and in the landscape which, though this fresco is the most injured of all, is still beautiful in its varied light and shade, and in the lie of the ground in hill and slope and distant vale.
Anderson photo] [Sixtine Chapel, Rome
THE BAPTISM OF CHRIST
The old Pope died before the paint was dry upon the walls of the chapel by which his name is best remembered; but long before his companions had got down to the west end, Pintoricchio must have done his share, though he may still have worked at draperies and minor details in his master’s allotment. What he had achieved had established his reputation, and when he went forth it was as an independent artist, himself an employer of assistants, soon to be the honoured recipient of papal commissions.
To this time we may assign the panel painting of the “Madonna teaching the Child to read,” which is now at Valencia. Indeed, Dr. Schmarsow holds it to be his earliest known work. It was formerly at Xativà, and was sent as a present to his native city by Roderigo Borgia, and was placed later in a chapel which his brother Francesco built to his memory. The crest of the Borgias shows that it was painted for that house, and the donor himself, as a comparatively young man, kneels on the right, with his mitre on the ground by his side.
We can trace the likeness to that other kneeling Pope in the Borgia apartments, though the features are less strongly marked. In this little panel, both the Mother and Child are standing,—He mounted on a chest, upon which the crest is painted; she with one hand tenderly placed on His shoulder, while the other holds the open book. She has the same type to which Pintoricchio was faithful, the egg-shaped face, arched brows and close shut mouth. The heavy folds of the mantle are starred and edged with gold, and the Child’s robe is of rich gold brocade. The picture is full of feeling, but is stiff in drawing and almost Byzantine in style. The delightful little lunette in Sant’ Onofrio in Rome, painted about 1505 by one of his scholars, is adapted from this picture, of which the master must have retained a sketch. The same follower was employed on the apse, where scenes by Peruzzi alternate with several in Pintoricchio’s manner, though they are far too ill-drawn to be from his hand.
We have no means of deciding what was the first important commission the young painter undertook after he left the Sixtine Chapel. The German critics, however, agree in placing the Buffalini Chapel in Ara Cœli as his next work. Morelli thinks it was later on account of the decoration of “grottesques,” but it has a simplicity and absence of ornament more akin to the Sixtine work than to Pintoricchio’s later gorgeous achievements, and he uses much of the same soft grey colour. It is not unlikely that he would have brought a special commendation from the Buffalini of Perugia to those members settled in Rome, and it is easy to see how fresh in his mind were the architectural traditions of Fiorenzo. The chapel, being painted almost entirely by his own hand, looks as if he had not yet gathered together so many assistants, and a little later, loaded with papal commissions, he would hardly have had time to devote to a private citizen.