Since my former visit, a new hall has been added to this museum, which is usually distinguished by the name of Braccio Nuovo. It runs across the long court or garden, surrounded by the suite of apartments above described. The central division is covered by a velum; that is, by a cupola, the diameter of which is equal to the diagonal of the square on which it rises, and of which consequently the sides are cut away. I do not much admire it, but the panelling is badly managed. The other parts are covered with a continued vault, in which the light is admitted by square holes along the crown; this also displeases me. The cornice architravata is likewise a defect. The cornice represents, says Milizia, the edge of the roof, it is therefore absurd to shew it internally. True, echoed the Italian architects, we will therefore omit the frieze, and Milizia seems to have admitted the deduction. The parts also, though very beautiful, are too much ornamented. The object of the architect seems to have been a fine hall, ornamented with statues, but in a museum the statues ought to be the principal object, and the architecture subordinate to them. The room of the Biga is not free from this latter imputation.
LETTER XXIX.
PALACES OF ROME.
Rome, April, 1817.
One does not at first do justice to the architecture of the Roman palaces. The great size of many of them, and the abundance, and bold projection of the ornaments, produce indeed a general impression of magnificence, but if we can get space enough in front to examine the parts distinctly, we often turn away dissatisfied from the absurdity and disproportion they exhibit. Yet with great faults, we may find amongst them great beauties, which, when habit has enabled us to support their defects, the mind learns to enjoy. Generally speaking, there is great simplicity of design, so much so, that in a large number, the front is not divided into parts, either as a centre and two wings, or in any other way, but presents one simple continued line of surface; and this I am persuaded is the best plan which can be adopted for large houses in streets. They also exhibit much richness of detail, and you know, simplicity of design and richness of detail, form my receipt for the production of beauty in architecture. It is true that these details are frequently very far from correct in themselves, and the proportions not always good; but to an architect, the modern palaces of Rome are invaluable, as a collection of experiments on architectural beauty on a grand scale; and let me add, in a grand style, for however they may be abused as extravagant, absurd, or preposterous, they at least avoid the greatest fault that a building can have, that of being mean and paltry. The Romans even in these their degenerate days, have adopted a style fit for those who had the world at their command. These palaces are rarely decorated, either with columns or pilasters, and they are better without them; for these never look well in a building of many stories in height. Ornaments round the windows are never omitted, and never should be omitted, for without them a window is a mere hole in the wall. The Roman architects have more often erred in making these dressings, as they are called, too large than too small, and their details are frequently very bad; yet even in their worst state they contribute greatly to the general beauty of a building, much more so when they are well designed. The stories are generally divided by horizontal bands or mouldings along the front, and great space is left between the ranges of windows. This latter circumstance is of great importance. It gives an air of solidity and magnificence to the front, and suggests the idea of lofty rooms within; and it is a great point gained, when in addition to the magnificence which is seen, the artist can excite the idea of other magnificence which is not seen. This space is however sometimes broken by a disagreeable mezzanine. The whole is crowned by a large and rich cornice. The perfect beau ideal of such an arrangement is not to be found in Rome, although some of its palaces are highly beautiful, but it cannot fail to be excited in the mind of an architect who attentively studies them. The body of the edifice is nothing but a useful dwelling-house, the ornaments naturally arise out of the construction required for such an object, and the design is capable of any degree of magnificence suited to the rank and consequence of the owner. In short, we find in it every thing which can satisfy the eye, the imagination, and the judgment. For a public building it is not so well suited, nor perhaps for the palace of a sovereign, which ought to partake of the character of a public building; nor should I recommend it for a country villa; we want there less height, less solidity, and more variety of form; less of the grand, and more of the agreeable; yet even here, the plain unbroken line is much superior to the unmeaning division into a centre and wings, or into five parts, both of which are so frequently seen in our English dwellings.
Before I enter into any detail of the private palaces, I must say something about the celebrated Campidoglio. This of course is among the first objects of a stranger at Rome. But after walking along the Corso, and keeping in his eye the confused pile of buildings at the end, which he is told covers part of the Capitoline hill, he is lost among a labyrinth of narrow dirty streets. At length, if he is fortunate enough to take the right direction, he will find himself in a small square at the foot of two lofty flights of steps. The one on the left, which is the longest and steepest, conducts him to the apparently half-finished front of a Gothic building, the Madonna di Ara Cœli. The right leads to the Intermonzio, and the modern Capitol. At the bottom of this flight are two lions of basalt, of Greek-Egyptian workmanship, which squirt a little stream of water from their mouths, or occasionally on great festivals, of wine. At top, a continued balustrade, which on each side of the step completes the north-western side of the place or square, is accompanied by colossal statues of men and horses, and by trophies taken from a ruined building on the Esquiline, thought to have been the castellum of the Aqua Marcia, and believed to be of the time of Trajan, though the trophies themselves are attributed to Marius. I shall not criticise any of these individually, but remark their fine effect altogether, as uniting with the architecture, and announcing the magnificence to be expected in the Capitol itself. The admirable equestrian statue of Marcus Aurelius next attracts our attention, and deserves equal praise from its individual merit, and as an ornament to the square. The attitude and expression are at once graceful and commanding, and suited to the philosophic and benevolent master of the Roman world. He gives not the least attention to himself or to his horse, but is entirely occupied with his people.
I have been induced to mention these accessories before the building itself, because they first strike the eye. I will now proceed to the examination of what is perhaps the best architectural work of M. Angelo Buonarroti. Its merit depends a good deal on the same circumstances as that of St. Mark’s Place at Venice, that is, the two side buildings form an avenue conducting to the central one. Its faults are, First, that this central building has not sufficient character. It hardly looks like the principal, and I believe in such cases that a bad display of architecture is better than none at all, because the general effect depends more upon the air of comparative importance, than upon the excellence of the parts. Perhaps also, its destination is not sufficiently important. All the fine arts speak to the imagination, and the true artist uses every means in his power to excite the imagination in his favour; not from system, but because he feels its importance in himself. Secondly, The lines of the side buildings diverge, and this makes them appear shorter than they are, when it would be better that they should appear longer, as I have already explained, in the colonnade of St. Peter’s. Thirdly, A large ugly window has been inserted in the middle of each side, thereby making it a separate composition; and there are no positions more certain, than that unity of design is essential to magnificence, and that in order to preserve unity of design, the inferior parts should not form independent compositions. This however was not done by M. A. Buonarroti, but by his pupil, Giacomo del Duca. The earliest architects of modern Rome have the merit of preserving unbroken the leading lines of their architecture; a beauty which seems to have been little attended to by their successors in any country; but which nevertheless, everybody feels, when he brings into comparison, buildings in other respects nearly similar.
Of the three buildings which form this architectural composition, that on the left hand side of the spectator as he enters, contains the Museum Capitolinum. That on the right is termed the Palace of the Conservatori. The front building is the Palace of the solitary senator of Rome. An open portico supported, or appearing to be supported, by small Ionic columns, about half the height of the principal order, extends along the front of each side building. The capitals of these Ionic columns are very singular, and are perhaps the earliest modern examples of such capitals, with the volutes uniformly projecting in the diagonal, instead of being parallel to the face of the building. We have ancient specimens of this kind at Pompei, but it is hardly probable that M. Angelo was acquainted with them. In the museum, you enter from this portico through a small vestibule, into a gallery of the same length, the central part of which is open to a small court, whence it derives its light. This court is ornamented with statues, and amongst them is that of Marforio, the ancient rival of Pasquin, but both have long been silent. Indeed, Misson in his travels in Italy in 1688, speaks of it as a practice which perhaps once existed. “’Tis very probable,” says he, “that it used formerly to be the custom, to affix the pasquinades on the statue of Pasquin, but that way is now laid aside, and all the satirical invectives are still fathered on Pasquin, though they never come near him.”
From this gallery you pass into three rooms in front of the building, the first of which contains imitations of Egyptian statues, in perfect preservation, found at the Villa Adriana. They are mostly of black marble, and strongly exhibit marks of their Grecian origin; but there are some of basalt, which have a truer Egyptian character. In the last is the famous sarcophagus, supposed, I know not why, to have contained the bodies of Alexander Severus, and his mother Mammæa. The bas-reliefs surrounding it represent the exploits of Achilles, and those of the front, and of one end are good, and in some parts really fine; the other end is inferior, and the back is miserable. The figures at the top, whoever they may represent, are not well executed.
In the walls of the staircase are encrusted the fragments of the ancient marble plan of Rome, found in the Temple of Remus. It is a pity that they are only fragments, but still it is a very curious monument, if it were only to show how incorrect the Romans were in these things. The date is not I think, determined, but we may suppose that a plan sculptured in marble and preserved in a temple, would have all the accuracy of which the subject was considered to be capable; and it is on a scale which would admit the greatest precision. Yet in buildings with columns, not only are these of unequal sizes, and placed at unequal distances, but even the number of them is disregarded; thus to mention one instance among many—the temple of Minerva is figured with six columns in front, and eight behind, a circumstance quite incredible.
Above stairs is a long gallery over that below. This, and five rooms in front, and one behind, are all filled with objects of great beauty or interest. One room contains a series of busts of Roman emperors and their wives. I wonder no one of our countrymen has thought of forming an historical series in plaster, of the emperors at least. This collection, added to those at Florence and Naples, would afford the materials, and opportunity also of selecting in a great many instances, the best, among a considerable number. Another room is occupied with busts of poets and philosophers. As for the beautiful objects of sculpture, they are too celebrated for me to venture a word upon them. The rooms are handsome and well disposed. The great hall, in particular, is a noble room of fine proportions, and the bold relief of the panelling of the lofty ceiling corresponds with the general air of solid magnificence, but its disposition is sadly complicated. As receptacles for sculpture, the light is introduced too low.