The mosaics at St. Mark's in Venice were chiefly the work of two centuries and a half. Greek artists were employed in the main, bringing their own tesseræ and marbles. In 1204 there was special activity in this line, at the time when the Venetians took Constantinople. After this, an establishment for making the smalts and gold glass was set up at Murano, and Venice no longer imported its material.

The old Cathedral at Torcello has one of the most perfect examples of the twelfth century mosaic in the world. The entire west end of the church is covered with a rich display of figures and Scriptural scenes. A very lurid Hell is exhibited at the lower corner, in the depths of which are seen stewing, several Saracens, with large hoop earrings. Their faces are highly expressive of discomfort. This mosaic is full of genuine feeling; one of the subjects is Amphitrite riding a seahorse, among those who rise to the surface when "the sea gives up its dead." The Redeemed are seen crowding round Abraham, who holds one in his bosom; they are like an infant class, and are dressed in uniform pinafores, intended to look like little ecclesiastical vestments! The Dead who are being given up by the Earth are being vomited forth by wild animals—this is original, and I believe, almost the only occasion on which this form of literal resurrection is represented.

In the thirteenth century a large number of mosaic artists appeared in Florence, many of whose names and histories are available. In the Baptistery, Andrea Tafi, who lived between 1213 and 1294, decorated the cupola. With him were two assistants who are known by name—Apollonius a Greek, which in part accounts for the stiff Byzantine figures in this work, and another who has left his signature, "Jacobus Sancti Francisci Frater"—evidently a monastic craftsman. Gaddo Gaddi also assisted in this work, executing the Prophets which occur under the windows, and professing to combine in his style "the Greek manner and that of Cimabue." Apollonius taught Andrea Tafi how to compose the smalt and to mix the cement, but this latter was evidently unsuccessful, for in the next century the mosaic detached itself and fell badly, when Agnolo Gaddi, the grandson of Gaddo, was engaged to restore it. Tafi, Gaddi, and Jacobus were considered as a promising firm, and they undertook other large works in mosaic. They commenced the apse at Pisa, which was finished in 1321 by Vicini, Cimabue designing the colossal figure of Christ which thus dominates the cathedral.

Vasari says that Andrea Tafi was considered "an excellent, nay, a divine artist" in his specialty. Andrea, himself more modest, visited Venice, and deigned to take instruction from Greek mosaic workers, who were employed at St. Mark's. One of them, Apollonius, became attached to Tafi, and this is how he came to accompany him to Florence. The work on the Baptistery was done actually in situ, every cube being set directly in the plaster. The work is still extant, and the technical and constructive features are perfect, since their restoration. It is amusing to read Vasari's patronizing account of Tafi; from the late Renaissance point of view, the mosaic worker seemed to be a barbarous Goth at best: "The good fortune of Andrea was really great," says Vasari, "to be born in an age which, doing all things in the rudest manner, could value so highly the works of an artist who really merited so little, not to say nothing!"

Gaddo Gaddi was a painstaking worker in mosaic, executing some works on a small scale entirely in eggshells of varying tints. In the Baroncelli chapel in Florence is a painting by Taddeo Gaddi, in which occur the portraits of his father, Gaddo Gaddi, and Andrea Tafi.

About this time the delightful mosaic at St. Clemente, in Rome, was executed. With its central cross and graceful vine decorations, it stands out unique among the groups of saints and seraphs, of angels and hierarchies, of most of the Roman apsidal ornaments. The mosaic in the basilica of St. John Lateran is by Jacopo Torriti. In the design there are two inconspicuous figures, intentionally smaller than the others, of two monks on their knees, working, with measure and compass. These represent Jacopo Torriti and his co-worker, Camerino. One of them is inscribed (translated) "Jacopo Torriti, painter, did this work," and the other, "Brother Jacopo Camerino, companion of the master worker, commends himself to the blessed John." The tools and implements used by mosaic artists are represented in the hands of these two monks. Torriti was apparently a greater man in some respects than his contemporaries. He based his art rather on Roman than Greek tradition, and his works exhibit less Byzantine formality than many mosaics of the period. On the apse of Sta. Maria Maggiore there appears a signature, "Jacopo Torriti made this work in mosaic." Gaddo Gaddi also added a composition below the vault, about 1308.

The well-known mosaic called the Navicella in the atrium of St. Peter's, Rome, was originally made by Giotto. It has been much restored and altered, but some of the original design undoubtedly remains. Giotto went to Rome to undertake this work in 1298; but the present mosaic is largely the restoration of Bernini, who can hardly be considered as a sympathetic interpreter of the early Florentine style. Vasari speaks of the Navicella as "a truly wonderful work, and deservedly eulogized by all enlightened judges." He marvels at the way in which Giotto has produced harmony and interchange of light and shade so cleverly: "with mere pieces of glass" (Vasari is so naïvely overwhelmed with ignorance when he comes to deal with handicraft) especially on the large sail of the boat.

In Venice, the Mascoli chapel was ornamented by scenes from the life of the Virgin, in 1430. The artist was Michele Zambono, who designed and superintended the work himself. At Or San Michele in Florence, the painter Peselli, or Guliano Arrigo, decorated the tabernacle, in 1416. Among other artists who entered the field of mosaic, were Baldovinetti and Domenico Ghirlandajo, the painter who originated the motto: "The only painting for eternity is mosaic."

In the sixteenth century the art of mosaic ceased to observe due limitations. The ideal was to reproduce exactly in mosaic such pictures as were prepared by Titian, Pordenone, Raphael, and other realistic painters. Georges Sand, in her charming novel, "Les Maitres Mosaïstes," gives one the atmosphere of the workshops in Venice in this later period. Tintoretto and Zuccato, the aged painter, are discussing the durability of mosaic:—"Since it resists so well," says Zuccato, "how comes it that the Seignory is repairing all the domes of St. Mark's, which to-day are as bare as my skull?" To which Tintoretto makes answer: "Because at the time when they were decorated with mosaics, Greek artists were scarce in Venice. They came from a distance, and remained but a short time: their apprentices were hastily trained, and executed the works entrusted to them without knowing their business, and without being able to give them the necessary solidity. Now that this art has been cultivated in Venice, century after century, we have become as skilful as even the Greeks were." The two sons of Zuccato, who are engaged in this work, confide to each other their trials and difficulties in the undertaking: like artists of all ages, they cannot easily convince their patrons that they comprehend their art better than their employers! Francesco complains of the Procurator, who is commissioned to examine the work: "He is not an artist. He sees in mosaic only an application of particles more or less brilliant. Perfection of tone, beauty of design, ingenuity of composition, are nothing to him.... Did I not try in vain the other day to make him understand that the old pieces of gilded crystal used by our ancestors and a little tarnished by time, were more favourable to colour than those manufactured to-day?" "Indeed, you make a mistake, Messer Francesco," said he, "in handing over to the Bianchini all the gold of modern manufacture. The Commissioners have decided that the old will do mixed with the new."... "But did I not in vain try to make him understand that this brilliant gold would hurt the faces, and completely ruin the effect of colour?"... The answer of the Procurator was, "The Bianchini do not scruple to use it, and their mosaics please the eye much better than yours," so his brother Valerio, laughing, asks, "What need of worrying yourself after such a decision as that? Suppress the shadows, cut a breadth of material from a great plate of enamel and lay it over the breast of St. Nicaise, render St. Cecilia's beautiful hair with a badly cut tile, a pretty lamb for St. John the Baptist, and the Commission will double your salary and the public clap its hands. Really, my brother, you who dream of glory, I do not understand how you can pledge yourself to the worship of art." "I dream of glory, it is true," replied Francesco, "but of a glory that is lasting, not the vain popularity of a day. I should like to leave an honoured name, if not an illustrious one, and make those who examine the cupolas of St. Mark's five hundred years hence say, 'This was the work of a conscientious artist.'" A description follows of the scene of the mosaic workers pursuing their calling. "Here was heard abusive language, there the joyous song; further on, the jest; above, the hammer: below, the trowel: now the dull and continuous thud of the tampon on the mosaics, and anon the clear and crystal like clicking of the glassware rolling from the baskets on to the pavement, in waves of rubies and emeralds. Then the fearful grating of the scraper on the cornice, and finally the sharp rasping cry of the saw in the marble, to say nothing of the low masses said at the end of the chapel in spite of the racket."

MOSAIC IN BAS-RELIEF, NAPLES