Should it here be inquired what good result may attend such a method, I reply that Boschini points out two very considerable ones. The first of them is, that by this mode of colouring, which he terms di macchia and di pratica, a certain hardness of style may more easily be avoided; and the other, that, better than any other, it gives a bolder relief to paintings in the distance: and pictures being intended to be thus viewed, rather than closer to the eye, such an object is by this process most easily attainable. I am aware of the moderns having misapplied and abused these maxims; but they were meant to have been judiciously employed, and I only wish to propose as examples the most celebrated of the school who so ably comprehended the method, and the limits of such a practice. Nor was the harmony of colours better understood by any other artists, insomuch, that the mode of assimilating and of contrasting them, may be considered as the second source of the delightful and lively, so predominant in their works, and more especially in those of Titian and his contemporaries.
Such skill was not merely confined to the fleshy parts, in whose colour the disciples of Titian have so far excelled every other school; it extended also to the drapery. For indeed, there are no pieces of velvets, of stuffs, or of crapes, which they did not imitate to perfection, more particularly in their portraits, in which the Venetians of that period abounded, displaying specimens the most ornamental and beautiful. The cavalier Mengs is of opinion, that also to this branch of the art, requiring the strictest attention to truth, and conferring a peculiar kind of interest upon a picture, may be in some measure attributed the degree of power and truth acquired by those eminent colourists. Their merit was moreover conspicuous in imitating every kind of work in gold, in silver, and every species of metal; so much so, that there are no royal palaces or lordly feasts, read of in any poet, which do not appear more nobly represented in some Venetian paintings. It was equally remarkable in point of landscape, which sometimes surpassed the efforts of the Flemish painters, and in architectural views, which, with a magnificence unknown elsewhere, they succeeded in introducing into their compositions, as we had before occasion to observe of the artists of the fourteenth century; a species of industry extremely favourable, likewise, to the distribution, the variety, and to the complete effect of groups of figures.
In these extensive compositions, which about the period of the Bellini abounded in half-length or diminutive figures, there has since been displayed a grandeur of proportions which has led the way to the most enlarged productions, on the scale we have more recently seen. The most terrific among these is the Supper of Paolo Veronese at S. Giorgio, in which the gifts of nature are so nobly seconded by the exhibition of talent, which appears to have been transmitted by succession through this school, nearly until the present day. Such ability consists in finely designing all the details of any work, however great, including the transmission and gradations of light, so that the eye of itself seems to follow its track, and embraces the entire effect from one end of the canvass to the other. And it has been observed by several who have witnessed ancient paintings (a violation of good taste, of late but too common,) cut up and curtailed to adapt them to the size of walls and doors, that such an operation often succeeds tolerably well with the pictures of other schools, but is extremely difficult with those of the Venetians; so intimately is one part connected with another, and harmonized with the whole.
These, along with other similar qualities that flatter the eye of the spectator, that attract the learned and the unlearned, and seem to transport the mind by the novelty and the reality of the representation, constitute a style which is termed by Reynolds the ornamental, who, likewise, among all the schools, yields the palm in this to the Venetians; a style afterwards introduced by Vovet into France, by Rubens into Flanders, and by Giordano into Naples and into Spain. The same English critic places it in the second rank, next to the grand style, and remarks that the professors of the sublime were fearful of falling into luxurious and pompous exhibitions of the accessaries; no less because prejudicial to the artist's industry in point of design and in point of expression, than because the transitory impression which it produces upon the spectator, seldom reaches the heart. And truly, as the sublime of Tully is more simple than the ornament of Pliny, and seems to dread any excitement of admiration for the beautiful, lest its energy should be unnerved by too studied a degree of elegance; so is it with the grandeur of Michelangiolo and of Raffaello, that without seeking to occupy us with the illusions of art, goes at once to the heart; terrifies or inspires us; awakens emotions of pity, of veneration, and the love of truth, exalting us, as it were, above ourselves, and leading us to indulge, even in spite of ourselves, the most delicious of all feelings, in that of wonder. It is upon this account that Reynolds considered it dangerous for students to become enamoured of the Venetian style; an opinion, which, judiciously understood, may prove of much service to such artists as are calculated to succeed in the more sublime. But since amidst such diversity of talent, there must appear artists better adapted to adorn than to express; it would not be advisable that their genius should be urged into a career in which it will leave them always among the last, withdrawing them, at the same time, from another in which they might have taken the lead. Let him, therefore, who in this art of silent eloquence possesses not the energy and spirit of Demosthenes, apply himself wholly, heart and soul, to the elegance, the pomp, and the copiousness of Demetrius Phalereus.
Let it not from this be supposed, that the sole merit of the Venetians consists in surprising the spectator by the effects of ornament and colour, and that the customary style and true method of painting, were not understood in those parts. Yet I am aware of the opinion of many foreigners, who having never removed beyond their native spot, are inclined to pronounce a general censure upon these artists, as being ignorant of design, too laboured in their composition, unacquainted with ideal beauty, and even unable to understand expression, costume, and grace; finally, that the rapidity so much in vogue with the whole of the school,[[41]] led them to despise the rules of art, not permitting them to complete the work before them, out of an anxiety to engage in other labours, for the sake of the profits afforded by them. To some of their painters, doubtless, these observations may apply, but assuredly not to the whole; for if one city be obnoxious to them, another is not so much so; or if they can be affirmed of a certain epoch or class of artists, it would be an idle attempt to fix them upon all. This school is in truth most abundant, no less in artists than in fine examples in every characteristic of the art; but neither one nor the other are sufficiently known and appreciated. Yet it is hoped the reader will be enabled to form a more correct idea of both; and after having cultivated an acquaintance with the Bellini, the Giorgioni, and the Titians, besides other masters, will trace, as it were from one parent stock, the various offshoots transplanted throughout the state, imbibing, according to the nature of the soil, and the vicinity of other climes, new tastes and qualities, without losing at the same time their original and native flavour. And if in the progress of our history we shall here and there, among plants of nobler growth, meet with some "lazzi sorbi," to use the words of our poet, some bitter apples, growing at their side; let these only be attacked; but let not the disgrace attaching to a few careless artists be calumniously extended to the whole of their school.
The happy era we are now entering upon, commences with Giorgione and with Titian, two names which, connected together, yet in competition with each other, divided between them, as it were, the whole body of disciples throughout the capital and the state; insomuch that we find no city that had not more or less adopted for its model one or other of these masters. I shall proceed to describe them separately, each with his own class, as I believe such a method most favourable, to shew how the whole of the school I am describing was almost entirely derived and propagated from two masters of a similar style. Giorgio Barbarelli of Castelfranco, more generally known by the name of Giorgione, from a certain grandeur conferred upon him by nature, no less of mind than form, and which appears also impressed upon his productions, as the character is said to be in the handwriting, was educated in the school of the Bellini. But impelled by a spirit conscious of its own powers, he despised that minuteness in the art which yet remained to be exploded, at once substituting for it a certain freedom and audacity of manner, in which the perfection of painting consists. In this view he may be said to be an inventor; no artist before his time having acquired that mastery of his pencil, so hardy and determined in its strokes, and producing such an effect in the distance. From that period he continued to ennoble his manner, rendering the contours more round and ample, the foreshortenings more new, the expression of the countenance more warm and lively, as well as the motions of his figures. His drapery, with all the other accessaries of the art became more select, the gradations of the different colours more soft and natural, and his chiaroscuro more powerful and effective. It was in this last indeed, that Venetian painting was the most deficient, while it had been introduced into the rest of the schools by Vinci previous to the sixteenth century. Vasari is of opinion that from the same artist, or rather from some of his designs, it was first acquired by Giorgione, a supposition that Boschini will not admit, maintaining that he was only indebted for it to himself, being his own master and scholar. And, in truth, the taste of Lionardo and of the Milanese artists who acquired it from him, not only differs in point of design, inclining in the contours and in the features more towards the graceful and the beautiful, while Giorgione affects rather a round and full expression; but it is contrasted with it, likewise, in the chiaroscuro. The composition of Lionardo abounds much more in shades, which are gradually softened with greater care; while in regard to his lights he is far more sparing, and studies to unite them in a small space with a degree of vividness that produces surprise. Giorgione's composition, on the other hand, is more clear and open, and with less shade; his middle tints, also, partake in nothing of the ironcast and grey, but are natural and beautiful; and in short, he approaches nearer to the style of Coreggio, if Mengs at least judges rightly, than to any other master. Still I am far from concluding that Vinci in no way contributed to the formation of Giorgione's new manner; every improvement in the art having taken its rise from some former one, which being admired for its novelty, became familiar to surrounding artists by example, and to more distant ones by its reputation, thus adding what was before wanting to the perfection of the art. And in this way have geniuses in different parts arisen, destined to increase and improve such advantages. This, if I mistake not, has been the case with the science of perspective, subsequent to the time of Pier della Francesca; with regard to foreshortening after Melozzo; and also with chiaroscuro after Lionardo.
The works of Giorgione were, for the chief part, executed in fresco, upon the façades of the houses, more particularly in Venice, where there now remains scarcely a relic of them, as if to remind us only of what have perished. Many of his pictures, on the other hand, both there and in other places, painted in oil and preserved in private houses, are found in excellent condition; the cause of which is attributed to the strong mixture of the colours, and to the full and liberal use of his pencil. In particular we meet with portraits, remarkable for the soul of their expression, for the air of their heads, the novelty of the garments, of the hair, of the plumes, and of the arms, no less than for the lively imitation of the living flesh, in which, however warm and sanguine are the tints which he applied, he adds to them so much grace, that in spite of thousands of imitators, he still stands alone. In analyzing some of these tints, Ridolfi discovered that they bore little resemblance to those used by the ancient Greeks, and quite distinct from those tawny, brown, and azure colours, since introduced at the expense of the more natural. Such of his pictures as are composed in the style of his Dead Christ, in the Monte di Pietà at Trevigi, the S. Omobono at the Scuola de' Sarti, in Venice, or the Tempest stilled by the Saint, at that of S. Marco, in which among other figures are those of three rowers drawn naked, excellent both in their design and their attitudes; such are the rarest triumphs of his art. The city of Milan possesses two of an oblong shape, in which several of the figures extend beyond the proportions of Poussin, and may be pronounced rather full than beautiful. One of these is to be viewed at the Ambrosiana, the other in the archepiscopal palace; esteemed by some the happiest effort of Giorgione that now survives. It represents the child Moses just rescued from the Nile, and presented to the daughter of Pharaoh. Very few colours, but well harmonized and distributed, and finely broken with the shades, produce a sort of austere union, if I may be allowed the expression, and may be assimilated to a piece of music composed of few notes, but skilfully adapted, and delightful beyond any more noisy combination of sounds.
Giorgione died at the early age of thirty-four, in 1511. Thus his productions, rather than the pupils he educated, remained to instruct the Venetians. Vasari, however, mentions several who have been contested by other writers. A Pietro Luzzo is recorded by Ridolfi;—a native of Feltre, called Zarato, or Zarotto,—who after being a pupil became a rival of Giorgione, and seduced from his house a woman, to whom he was passionately attached, at whose loss it has been asserted by some that the disappointed artist died in despair. By others, on the contrary, he is said to have died of a disease contracted during his intercourse with the same lady. This Zarato, as we read in a MS. history of Feltre, and in a MS. upon the pictures of Udine, is the same whom Vasari entitles, Morto da Feltro; and adds, that he went when young to Rome, and subsequently flourished in Florence and elsewhere, distinguished for his skill in grotesques; of which more hereafter. Going afterwards to Venice, he is known to have assisted Giorgione in the paintings he made for the Fondaco de' Tedeschi, about the year 1505; and, lastly, having remained some time at his native place, he embraced a military life, obtaining the rank of captain. Proceeding to Zara, he fell in battle near that place in his forty-fifth year; at least such is the account of Vasari. From the mention of his native place of Feltre, his assisting Giorgione in his works, and his surnames of Zarato and Morto, I think there is some degree of probability in the assertion contained in these MSS. though the dates attaching to the life of Morto in Vasari, will not countenance the supposition of Ridolfi, of his being the pupil of Giorgione, a man considerably younger than himself; so that I should conjecture that Ridolfi may have denominated him a scholar of Giorgione, because, when already of a mature age, he painted under him as his assistant. Notwithstanding the assertion of Vasari, he had a tolerable genius for figures, and in the history already cited, written by Cambrucci, and in possession of the bishop of Feltre, a picture of our Lady between saints Francesco and Antonio, placed at S. Spirito, and another at Villabruna, besides a figure of Curtius on horseback, upon a house at Teggie, are attributed to his hand. We gather from the same history that another Luzzi, by name Lorenzo, a contemporary and perhaps friend of Pietro, painted very skilfully in fresco, at the church of S. Stefano; and that he was equally successful in oils, he himself assures us in his altarpiece of the proto-martyr S. Stefano, conspicuous for correctness of design, beauty of forms, force of tints, and bearing his name and the date of 1511.
The most distinguished disciple of the school of Giorgione is Sebastiano, a Venetian, commonly called, from the habit and office he afterwards assumed at Rome, Fra Sebastiano del Piombo. Having left Gian Bellini, he attached himself to Giorgione, and in the tone of his colours, and the fulness of his forms, imitated him better than any other artist. An altarpiece in S. Gio. Crisostomo, from his hand, was by some mistaken for the work of his master; so strikingly does it abound with his manner. It may be presumed, indeed, that he was assisted in the design; Sebastiano being known to possess no surprising richness of invention,—slow in the composition of most of his figures; irresolute; eager to undertake, but difficult to commence, and most difficult in the completion. Hence we rarely meet with any of his histories or his altarpieces comparable to the Nativity of the Virgin, at S. Agostino, in Perugia, or the Flagellazione at the Osservanti of Viterbo, which is esteemed the best picture in the city. Pictures for private rooms, and portraits, he painted in great number, and with comparative ease; and we no where meet with more beautiful hands, more rosy flesh tints, or more novel accessaries than in these. Thus, in taking the portrait of Pietro Aretino, he distinguished five different tints of black in his dress; imitating with exactness those of the velvet, of the satin, and so of the rest. Being invited to Rome by Agostino Chigi, and there esteemed as one of the first colourists of his time, he painted in competition with Peruzzi, and with Raffaello himself; and the rival labours of all three are still preserved in a hall of the Farnesina, at that period the house of the Chigi.
Sebastiano became aware, that in such a competition, his own design would not appear to much advantage in Rome, and he improved it. But occasionally he fell into some harshness of manner, owing to the difficulties he there encountered. Yet, in several of his works, he was assisted by Michelangiolo, from whose design he painted that Pietà, placed at the Conventuali of Viterbo, and the Transfiguration, with the other pieces which he produced, during six years, for S. Pietro in Montorio, at Rome. It is stated by Vasari, that Michelangiolo united with him, in order to oppose the too favourable opinion entertained by the Romans, of Raffaello. He adds, that on the death of the latter, Sebastiano was universally esteemed the first artist of his time, upheld by the favour of Michelangiolo; Giulio Romano, and the rest of the rival school, being all inferior to him. I am almost at a loss how to judge of a fact, which, if discredited, seems to cast an imputation upon the historian, and, if received, reflects very little credit upon Buonarotti; and the reader will do best, perhaps, to decide for himself. The name of Sebastiano must also be added to the list of inventors, for his new method of oil painting upon stone, upon which plan he executed the Flagellazione, for S. Pietro in Montorio, a work as much defaced by time as the others which he made in fresco remain at the same place entire. He coloured also upon stone several pictures for private houses, a practice highly esteemed at its earlier period, but which was soon abandoned owing to the difficulty of carriage. Upon this plan, or some other resembling it, we find several pictures of the sixteenth century executed, and which, at this period, are esteemed in museums real antiques.[[42]]