SATISFYING A CRITIC OF THE FAULTLESS (MICHAEL ANGELO, 1564).
Vasari, the biographer and pupil, says that when Michael Angelo had set up his colossal marble statue of David, it chanced that Soderini, whom it greatly pleased, came to look at it while the artist was giving a few last touches, and told him that he thought the nose too short. Michael Angelo perceived that Soderini was in such a position beneath the figure that he could not see it conveniently, yet to satisfy him he mounted the scaffold with his chisel and a little powder which he had picked up from the floor. He then struck the nose a few times very gently, but without altering anything, and took care to let some of the powder fall down at the same time, and told the critic to look at it now. “I like it better now,” replied Soderini; “you have given it life.” The sculptor then came down, not without compassion for that class of people who desire to appear good judges of what they do not understand. Vasari says he may truly affirm that this surpasses all others, whether ancient or modern, Greek or Latin; neither the Marforio at Rome, the Tiber and the Nile in the Belvedere, nor the giants of Monte Cavallo can be compared to such a model of beauty and excellence. The outline of the lower limbs is most exquisite. The connection of each limb with the body is faultless, and the spirit of the whole form is divine. Never since has there been produced so fine an attitude, so perfect a grace, such beauty of head, feet, and hands; every part is replete with excellence; nor is so much harmony and admirable art to be found in any other work. He that has seen this, therefore, need not care to see any production else, whether of that age or of any preceding it.
MICHAEL ANGELO’S LAST JUDGMENT (1564).
Michael Angelo when commissioned by the Pope to finish the paintings of the Sistine Chapel executed two vast frescoes for the ends of the chapel, one on “The Last Judgment,” and the other “The Fall of the Angels.” “The Last Judgment” was begun in 1533, but was not finished till 1541. Though containing some groups powerfully painted, there were many adverse critics as to the general style and some of the details of this performance. The Pope’s master of the ceremonies, Biagio, was very severe in his comments, and when asked by the Pope what he thought of this painting, the former replied that he thought it was a shameless exhibition of naked figures, more fit for a bathing-house or a beershop than a church. Michael Angelo heard of this criticism, and one day when alone he put in a likeness of the unfortunate master of ceremonies among the damned under a representation of Minos. The resemblance was so striking that all Rome went to see it. Biagio being furious went and complained to the Pope, who asked where Michael Angelo had put him in the picture. “In hell,” he replied. “Alas!” rejoined Pope Paul, with a smile, “if he had only put you in purgatory, I could have got you out; but as you are in hell, I can do nothing for you. My power does not reach so far as that.”
VARGAS’S DEVOTION TO SACRED ART (1568).
Vargas of Seville painted for the cathedral in 1555 a picture of the Nativity, which still forms the altarpiece of the little chapel dedicated to that event. The Virgin Mother might have been sketched by the pure pencil of Raphael. The peasant who kneels at her feet with his offering of a basket of doves is a study from Nature, painted with much of the force and freedom of the later masters of Seville; and many of the accessories, such as the head of the goat dragged in by the shepherd and the sheaf of corn and pack-saddle, are finished with Flemish accuracy. He also painted “Christ going to Calvary,” and many saints and martyrs and female heads of much purity and grace. Vargas died in 1568, having been distinguished for his modesty, kindness, and devotion to religion. After his death there were found in his chamber the scourges with which he practised self-flagellation, and a coffin wherein he was wont to lie down in the hours of solitude and repose and consider his latter end. He had much wit and humour; and once, when asked by a brother painter his opinion of a very badly painted Saviour on the cross, Vargas said, “Methinks He is saying, ‘Forgive them, Lord, for they know not what they do.’”
TITIAN’S HEAD OF CHRIST (1576).
Titian painted his great picture of “The Tribute Money,” now in the Dresden Gallery, in answer to a taunt that Venetian art had no finish. This picture has commanded the admiration of four centuries for the Godlike beauty and calm majesty of Christ’s countenance. His lips seem to be parting with the question, “Whose is this image and superscription?” while the fingers point gracefully to the coin in the rough hand of his cunning tempter, whose face shows the low self-satisfaction with which he thinks he has outwitted the Master. Vasari says this head of Christ is “stupendous and miraculous”; its conscious sublimity of expressive attitude and movement are well set off by the sharp and cunning profile of the rough and weather-beaten questioner, who is so keen to foil a higher nature. This is thought to be the most perfect picture from the hand of Titian. He painted another great picture in his old age of “Christ at Emmaus,” gorgeous in colour and masterly in its attitudes and expression.
TITIAN’S PAINTING OF THE TRIBUTE MONEY (1576).
Scanelli tells the condition under which this renowned picture by Titian was produced. Titian was visited on a certain occasion by a company of German travellers, who were allowed to look at the pictures in his studio. On being asked what impression these works conveyed, these gentlemen declared that they knew of one master only who was capable of finishing as they thought paintings ought to be finished, and that was Durer. Their impression was, that Venetian compositions invariably fell below the promise which they had given at the first. To these observations Titian smilingly replied that, if he had thought extreme finish to be the end and aim of art, he too would have fallen into the excesses of Durer. But though long experience had taught him to prefer a broad and even track to a narrow and intricate path, yet he would still take occasion to show that the subtlest detail might be compassed without sacrifice of breadth, and so produced the Christ of the tribute money. All the artists of his time thought this the most perfect work of Titian. The contrast is sublime between the majestic calm and elevation, the Godlike beauty, of Christ and the low cunning and crafty, coarse air of the Pharisee who questions Him. The marble smoothness and fair complexion of Christ’s skin is contrasted with the rough, tanned, and weather-beaten skin of the other.