Another very celebrated work is the great Palazzo Farnese, of which the front towards the Piazza Farnese, and the two sides, were almost entirely of the design of Sangallo; and quite so as to the general distribution of the subject, except the cornice, which was by Michael Angelo. The court is by Vignola, and the back has also been cut up by the same artist; but of these I shall tell you more presently. This front is of great extent, and the parts are large and magnificent; yet it is by no means one of this artist’s best works. The windows are crowded, and over ornamented, but perhaps this extra ornament is a posterior addition; the great space above the upper range of windows has a bad effect, as it gives to that story the appearance of the principal one, which other circumstances do not, and ought not in such a building, to bear out.
The cornice, as I have already said, was the design of Michael Angelo Buonarroti. Paul the Third, who began this edifice before his elevation to the papacy, determined when he was pope, to have the most magnificent finish to his building that ever man conceived, and had a competition among the architects of the day, for the production of the most beautiful cornice. The pope himself examined all the designs, “and after,” says Milizia, “he had praised that of Michael Angelo as excelling all the rest, greatly to the mortification of poor Sangallo, he directed at last one by a certain Melighino to be brought forward.” This Melighino was a Ferrarese, who had just undertaken to be an architect, after having, as is supposed, served his master many years as a footman. Sangallo’s patience was exhausted, and he declared that Melighino was a joke of an architect (architetto da Beffe) to which the pope replied by a low bow and a bitter smile, “But we will, that Melighino be an architect in good earnest.” These competitions are much the fashion now in England, and there are some advantages in the plan; but as they are usually conducted, there are also many disadvantages, amongst which perhaps it is not the least, that under the notion of encouraging rising merit, they deprive of its due reward, that which is already in some degree risen; obliging every man who wishes to be engaged in any public work, (generally the most honourable, because the most conspicuous employment) to enter into competition with the rawest beginners; not before competent judges, (for if that were the case, he would have no right to complain) but before those, who perhaps have much general knowledge and taste, but who have attended little to architecture. The difference is so great between the drawings offered in the first instance, and the ultimate production of this art in the building, that a man of the strictest honour and purest taste, who has not frequently compared the geometrical drawing, and the edifice which it undertakes to explain, and deeply studied the relation between one and the other, is perhaps as likely to admire a Melighino, as a Michael Angelo, or a Sangallo. No building that has claimed the admiration of ages was ever designed in this way. There is more to be said on the subject, even in this particular point of view, but I will spare you, and return to Michael Angelo, who has here produced a cornice too large, even for the gigantic proportion of the palace which it crowns. I have not measured it, but I believe, including the ornament immediately below, which joins with it in general effect, that it is above nine feet high, and nearly equal in height to the principal range of windows. The showy part of the interior, which is nothing in comparison with the extent and magnificence of the building, consists of a fine gallery, 62 feet long, and 19 wide (Roman feet, I suppose), and some adjoining rooms. The gallery contains probably the noblest monument which Annibale Caracci has left of his great abilities. The subject painted on the ceiling is the triumph of Bacchus, full of life, spirit, and beauty. Ariadne is a charming figure, but there is a fawn dancing by her, quite overflowing with youthful spirits, so full of grace and animation, that I do not wonder that her attention is directed towards him, rather than to Bacchus. The upper rooms in this palace are assigned to the use of the students in the Neapolitan academy at Rome.
I have already related all I had to say of Michael Angelo’s architecture in the account of St. Peter’s and of the Campidoglio, I shall therefore pass to Giulio Romano, whom I expect to see more advantageously at Mantua. I would not, however, have you imagine that I do not set a high value on what he has done at Rome, but the quantity is very little. At first, to say the truth, I did not like it at all. What is different from that we are used to admire, often displeases us merely on that account, from habit, or rather I should say from the want of habit; and the architecture of Giulio is very markedly different from that of every one else. He strongly affected square forms, and seems to have laboured as much as possible to divide his buildings into square, or nearly square compartments. The receipt does not appear very promising, and yet the Palazzo Cenci, as it was once called, the palace where the Accademia Tiberina now holds its sittings, in spite of rags, and dirt, and dilapidation, is a noble design.
Giulio may be considered as the last of the early Roman architects. Their style is marked by a severity and magnificence, which I confess please me better, or rather excite in me higher ideas of excellence, than the grace and beauty of the Palladian. Do not accuse me of refining too much, when I add, that I do not mean to say that I like any of their houses, better than those of Palladio. I think that they followed a beau ideal of a higher character and expression, but Palladio undoubtedly reached his object much more nearly than any of the Roman architects; had Raphael lived, and followed architecture, I am persuaded that we should have had something far superior to what has ever been seen; but Raphael could hardly have done more for the Roman style, than Palladio did for that which he pursued. Of this more ornamental style, Vignola was the best among the Roman architects, but his buildings still retain something of the severity of his predecessors, and they fall far short of the grace and elegance of the Vicentine. Within the city, he has left very little but the court of the Farnese palace, which is not very fine, and whose style he has preposterously carried to the outside of the building, to form the centre of its north-west front, although entirely discordant with the work of Sangallo. On the outside of the gates are the little church of Sant Andrea, and the Villa Giulia, a work of considerable beauty and great defects, and now in a very forlorn condition. The first of these, the church of Sant Andrea, has been much admired, and even pointed out as a model for young architects; yet it is full of faults. It is oblong on the plan, covered with an elliptical dome; a bad form, for which it does not appear that there was any sufficient reason; since a design occupying the same ground, with a square room and a portico, would have given to the front the relief that it wants, and offered a reason for the pediment, which is now placed against the plain wall. “Ecco,” says Stern, “come s’imita lo spirito delle antiche invenzioni.” I should certainly think him ironical, if his whole description were not excessively laudatory. It is too high, both externally and internally, and yet with all this, there certainly is united considerable beauty in the proportions, and in the principal parts. In the front of the Villa Giulia, the upper story wants height and consequence, as from its distribution and style of ornament, it certainly ought to be the principal. The back court and nymphæum present in some parts a pleasing variety of lines; but there are too many breaks, and the whole is too intricate, and what is worse, whimsical; and Vignola when licentious has less grace than Borromino; his forte is in correct architecture. The circular gallery above, produces a very pleasing effect, and would be admirable if filled with sculpture; at present it is forlorn and naked.
The most famous work of this architect is the Palace of Capraruola, of which I have already given you some account. It forms a pentagon, with a bastion at each angle, as if it were a fortification. I do not like these pretences, nor do I admire the taste which creates to itself difficulties, in order to display ingenuity in overcoming them.
I will not detain you with the architecture of Giacomo del Duca, of Bartolommeo Ammanati, or a dozen others, whose greatest merit is, that they have not entirely lost the massive simplicity of the Roman school. I should however be inclined to point out as worthy of attention, to any person going to Rome, the Palazzo Alessandrini in the Piazza of the Santi Apostoli; it is merely a square front, with seven windows in a range, but so disposed as to give the idea of lofty and magnificent rooms; perhaps, if one were to criticize it minutely, a little too lofty, but the “too much” in architecture is infinitely preferable to the “too little.”
Ammanati erected the Palazzo Ruspoli in the Corso, the ground-floor of which is now occupied by the great coffee-house. An unbroken range of nineteen windows must have an appearance of magnificence. The doorway is not according to the original design. It is now shut up. I think the greatest fault in the arrangement depends on the too great height of the upper range of windows. This palace is admired for its staircase. All that is seen at one view is a fine flight of marble steps, each of one stone. The very frequent disposition of a Roman staircase is that of a wall in the middle, and a flight of steps supported on an inclined vault, alternately on each side, and that is the plan of the one in this palace.
The front of the Quirinal palace is attributed to Domenico Fontana, and taking it as it probably originally stood, it is not bad, although the upper story, being the principal, has not a good effect, and the design is now cut up by a great arched opening made for the benediction. This was done by Bernini. The two upper stories of the flank, I suspect (for I have no direct evidence) were added by Flaminio Ponzio: it is completely one house upon another, and nothing can be more ugly. The court is certainly very fine; it consists of a long square, surrounded by open arcades on three sides, and the fourth, which is the end farthest from the entrance, with a double row, and a clock tower; forming a front and entrance, which if not very good in itself is evidently the principal object in the court, and gives a unity and character to the whole. The design was by Ottavio Mascherini, but here also Ponzio has been at work with his abominable upper house. The great staircase is badly placed, and has no effect, though on a magnificent scale. The entrance hall I estimate at 40 feet wide, 50 high, and 100 long; the proportions are pleasing, but nothing else is good. Thence we pass through a long passage or gallery vaulted with a waggon-head, with windows on one side, to a range of apartments which was fitted up in this palace by the French, to receive, as it is said, the king of Rome; or at least begun for that purpose, and now completed for the emperor: it is, I think, the most beautiful suite I have ever seen.
The Anticamera of the Guardia Nobile is 70 feet long, 40 wide, and 50 high. It was lighted, when I saw it, only by windows in the vaulted roof, which shewed it to the best advantage. There are lower windows on each side, but these were then closed. It is surrounded by a high plinth, which is generally a much better finish than our base, dado, and surbase. The general colour is pale gray. The chairs are yellow and gold, the carpet green, the curtains white; there is no gilding on the architecture, but this combination of colours is very good, and you must not laugh at me for attending to these particulars, for if they be not essential parts of the art, they are however accessories of great importance in the effect produced. A handsome room may be quite spoilt by bad finishing, and ill chosen colours in the walls and furniture; and the defects of a poor one concealed, or at least much diminished, by good management in this respect.
Most of the apartments of the suite have coved ceilings, which is probably the best form for the rooms of a splendid mansion, but there is always a difficulty in the management of the angles. If the margin of the central flat compartment be continued down the cove, the angles are left as bent panels, which seems absurd, and it is extremely difficult to ornament them, yet this is probably the best practicable disposition. We may sometimes see an angular rib, with or without the continuation of the middle frame; but it does not look well. The chief rule to be given in this style of finish, is to make the cove large, and the framings broad and rich.