Rubens’ Praise of Leonardo

Peter Paul Rubens, who had copied Leonardo’s battle-piece, has left the following perceptive tribute to the genius of his predecessor:

“Nothing escaped him that related to the expression of his subject: and by the heat of his fancy, as well as by the solidity of his judgment, he raised divine things by human, and understood how to give men those different degrees, that elevate them to the character of heroes.

“The best of the examples which he has left us is our Lord’s Supper, which he painted at Milan, wherein he has represented the apostles in places that suit with them, and our Saviour in the most honourable, the midst of all, having nobody near enough to press or incommode him. His attitude is grand, his arms are in a loose and free posture, to show the greater grandeur, while the apostles appear agitated one side to the other by the vehemence of their inquietude, and in which there is, however, no meanness, nor any indecent action to be seen. In short by his profound speculations he arrived to such a degree of perfection, that it seems to me impossible to speak so well of him as he deserves, and much more to imitate him.”

The Art of Painting ... Translated from the French of Monsieur De Piles, London about 1725. p. 107 f.

Fig. 167. Raphael. Count Baldassare Castiglione, author of “the Courtier.”—Louvre.

Chapter VI
THE GOLDEN AGE
RAPHAEL AND MICHELANGELO

On pride and humility in Art—The new Grand Style defined—Umbrian humility in the Early Painters—Gentile da Fabriano—The Fifteenth Century—Luca Signorelli—Perugino—Raphael; Early development—Roman triumph—Michelangelesque aberrations—Michelangelo.

Whether the greatest art is grounded in pride or in humility has divided the critics. To most it will seem evident that the artist’s assertion of his own powers is an act of pride—a pride of person which is often reinforced by that of nation and race. As fine a critic as John Ruskin, on the contrary, has insisted that the greatest art springs from humility—reverence for God, admiration of His works in nature, homage also to one’s earthly master in art and withal to the great tradition of one’s craft. The difference is world-wide. According to one interpretation or the other, the work of art becomes an act of display or of worship. Such opposites in the realm of analysis often meet comfortably enough in the realm of practice. A haughty individualist like Leonardo da Vinci insists that his investigations of appearance and reality lead to that knowledge of God without which love is impossible. And the Golden Age of painting itself, though mostly based on corporate and individual pride, has also its infusion of humility. If Michelangelo represents the flowering of three generations of research, of that pride of intellect which ever ruled Florence, so equally does Raphael represent many generations of humility and teachableness in his native Umbria. For about ten years pride and humility worked side by side, and that was the Golden Age. Pride prevailed over humility, and the classical style of Central Italy sunk to a pretentious exhibitionism.