[47] Lomazzo, Trattato, c. 37.

SCHOOL OF MILAN.

EPOCH II.

Leonardo da Vinci establishes an Academy of Design at Milan. His Pupils and the best native Artists down to the time of Gaudenzio.

In treating of the Florentine School we took occasion to enter into a brief examination of the pictoric education of Vinci, of his peculiar style, and of his residence in different cities, among which was mentioned Milan, and the academy which he there instituted. He arrived in that city, according to the testimony of Vasari, in the year 1594, the first of the reign of Prince Lodovico Il Moro; or rather he resided there, if not altogether, at least for the execution of commissions, from 1482, as it has been recently supposed,[48] and left it after its capture by the French in 1499. The years spent by Lionardo at Milan were, perhaps, the happiest of his life, and certainly productive of the most utility to the art of any in the whole period of his career. The duke had deputed him to superintend an academy of design, which, if I mistake not, was the first in Italy, which gave the law to the leading ones in other parts. It continued to flourish after the departure of Vinci, was much frequented, and formed excellent pupils, maintaining in the place of its first director, his precepts, his writings, and his models. No very distinct accounts indeed of his method have survived; but we are certain that he formed it on scientific principles, deduced from philosophical reasoning, with which Vinci was familiar in every branch. His treatise upon painting is esteemed, however imperfect, as a kind of second canon of Polycletes, and explains the manner in which Lionardo taught.[49] We may also gather some knowledge of it from his other numerous and various writings, which, having been left to the care of Melzi, and in the course of time distributed, now form the ornament of different cabinets. Fourteen volumes of these presented to the public, are in the Ambrosian collection, and many of them are calculated to smooth the difficulties of the art to young beginners. It is further known that the author, having entered into a familiar friendship with Marcantonio della Torre, lecturer of Pavia, united with him in illustrating the science of anatomy, then little known in Italy, and that he represented with the utmost exactness, in addition to the human figure, that of the horse, in a knowledge of which he was esteemed quite unrivalled. The benefit he conferred upon the art by the study of optics is also well known, and no one was better acquainted with the nature of aërial perspective,[50] which became a distinctive and hereditary characteristic of his school. He was extremely well versed in the science of music, and in playing upon the lyre, and equally so in poetry and history. Here his example was followed by Luini and others; and to him likewise it was owing that the Milanese School became one of the most accurate and observing in regard to antiquity and to costume. Mengs has noticed before me that no artist could surpass Vinci in the grand effect of his chiaroscuro. He instructed his pupils to make as cautious an use of light as of a gem, not lavishing it too freely, but reserving it always for the best place. And hence we find in his, and in the best of his disciples' paintings, that fine relief, owing to which the pictures, and in particular the countenances, seem as if starting from the canvass.

For a long period past, the art had become gradually more refined, and considered its subjects more minutely; in which Botticelli, Mantegna, and others had acquired great reputation. As minuteness, however, is opposed to sublimity, it ill accorded with that elevation in which the supreme merit of the art would seem to consist. In my opinion Lionardo succeeded in uniting these two opposite qualities, before any other artist. In subjects which he undertook fully to complete, he was not satisfied with only perfecting the heads, counterfeiting the shining of the eyes, the pores of the skin, the roots of the hair, and even the beating of the arteries; he likewise portrayed each separate garment and every accessary with minuteness. Thus, in his landscapes also, there was not a single herb or leaf of a tree, which he had not taken like a portrait, from the select face of nature; and to his very leaves he gave a peculiar air, and fold, and position, best adapted to represent them rustling in the wind. While he bestowed his attention in this manner upon the minutiæ, he at the same time, as is observed by Mengs, led the way to a more enlarged and dignified style; entered into the most abstruse inquiries as to the source and nature of expression, the most philosophical and elevated branch of the art; and smoothed the way, if I may be permitted to say so, for the appearance of Raffaello. No one could be more curious in his researches, more intent upon observing, or more prompt in catching the motions of the passions, as exhibited either in the features or the actions. He frequented places of public assembly, and all spectacles in which man gave free play to his active powers; and there, in a small book always ready at hand, he drew the attitudes which he selected; and these designs he preserved in order to apply them, with expressions more or less powerful, according to the occasion, and the degree of expression he wished to introduce. For it was his custom, in the same manner as he gradually strengthened his shadows until he reached the highest degree; so also in the composition of his figures, to proceed in heightening them until he attained the perfection of passion and of motion. The same kind of gradation he observed in regard to elegance, of which he was perhaps the earliest admirer; since previous artists appeared unable to distinguish grace from beauty, and still more so to adapt it to pleasing subjects in such a way as to rise from the less to the more attractive points, as was practised by Lionardo da Vinci. He even adhered to the same rule in his burlesques; always throwing an air of greater ridicule over one than another, insomuch that he was heard to say, that they ought to be carried to such a height, if possible, as even to make a dead man laugh.

The characteristic, therefore, of this incomparable artist, consists in a refinement of taste, of which no equal example, either preceding or following him, is to be found; if, indeed, we may not admit that of the old Protogenes, in whom Apelles was unable to find any reason why he himself should be preferred to him, except it were the superabundant industry of his competitor.[51] And, in truth, it would appear, that Vinci likewise, did not always call to mind the maxim of "ne quid nimis," in the observance of which, the perfection of human pursuits is to be found. Phidias himself, said Tully, bore in his mind a more beautiful Minerva and a grander Jove, than he was capable of exhibiting with his chisel; and it is prudent counsel, that teaches us to aspire to the best, but to rest satisfied with attaining what is good. Vinci was never pleased with his labours if he did not execute them as perfectly as he had conceived them; and being unable to reach the high point proposed with a mortal hand, he sometimes only designed his work, or conducted it only to a certain degree of completion. Sometimes he devoted to it so long a period as almost to renew the example of the ancient who employed seven years over his picture. But as there was no limit to the discovery of fresh beauties in that work, so, in the opinion of Lomazzo, it happens with the perfections of Vinci's paintings, including even those which Vasari and others allude to as left imperfect.

Before proceeding further, it becomes our historical duty, having here mentioned his imperfect works, to inform the reader of the real sense in which the words are to be taken when applied to Vinci. It is certain he left a number of works only half finished, such as his Epiphany, in the ducal gallery at Florence, or his Holy Family, in the archbishop's palace at Milan. Most frequently, however, the report is grounded upon his having left some portion of his pieces less perfectly finished than the rest; a deficiency, nevertheless, that cannot always be detected even by the best judges. The portrait, for instance, of M. Lisa Gioconda, painted at Florence in the period of four years, and then, according to Vasari, left imperfect, was minutely examined by Mariette, in the collection of the king of France, and was declared to be carried to so high a degree of finish, that it was impossible to surpass it. The defect will be more easily recognized in other portraits, several of which are yet to be seen at Milan; for instance, that of a lady belonging to the Sig. Principe Albani; and one of a man, in the Palazzo Scotti Gallerati. Indeed Lomazzo has remarked, that, excepting three or four, he left all the rest of his heads imperfect. But imperfections and faults like his would have been accounted distinguishing qualities in almost any other artist.

Even his grand Supper has been stated in history as an imperfect production, though at the same time all history is agreed in celebrating it as one of the most beautiful paintings that ever proceeded from the hand of man. It was painted for the refectory of the Dominican fathers, at Milan, and may be pronounced a compendium not only of all that Lionardo taught in his books, but also of what he embraced in his studies. He here gave expression to the exact point of time best adapted to animate his history, which is the moment when the redeemer addresses his disciples, saying, "One of you will betray me." Then each of his innocent followers is seen to start as if struck with a thunderbolt; those at a distance seem to interrogate their companions, as if they think they must have mistaken what he had said; others, according to their natural disposition, appear variously affected; one of them swoons away, one stands lost in astonishment, a third rises in indignation, while the very simplicity and candour depicted upon the countenance of a fourth, seem to place him beyond the reach of suspicion. But Judas instantly draws in his countenance, and while he appears as it were attempting to give it an air of innocence, the eye rests upon him in a moment as the undoubted traitor. Vinci himself used to observe, that for the space of a whole year, he employed his time in meditating how he could best give expression to the features of so bad a heart; and that being accustomed to frequent a place where the worst characters were known to assemble, he there met with a physiognomy to his purpose; to which he also added the features of many others. In his figures of the two Saints Jacopo, presenting fine forms, most appropriate to the characters, he availed himself of the same plan; and being unable with his utmost diligence to invest that of Christ with a superior air to the rest, he left the head in an unfinished state, as we learn from Vasari, though Armenini pronounced it exquisitely complete. The rest of the picture, the tablecloth with its folds, the whole of the utensils, the table, the architecture, the distribution of the lights, the perspective of the ceiling, (which in the tapestry of San Pietro, at Rome, is changed almost into a hanging garden) all was conducted with the most exquisite care; all was worthy of the finest pencil in the world. Had Lionardo desired to follow the practice of his age in painting in distemper, the art at this time would have been in possession of this treasure. But being always fond of attempting new methods, he painted this masterpiece upon a peculiar ground, formed of distilled oils, which was the reason that it gradually detached itself from the wall, a misfortune which had also nearly befallen one of his Madonnas, at S. Onofrio, at Rome, though it was preserved under glass. About half a century subsequent to the production of his great Supper, when Armenini then saw it, it was already half decayed; and Scanelli, who examined it in 1642, declares that it "was with difficulty he could discern the history as it had been." In the present century a hope had been indulged of this magnificent painting being restored by aid of some varnish, or other secret, as may be seen by consulting Bottari. In regard to this, however, and the other vicissitudes of this great picture, we ought also to consider what is stated in a tone of ridicule and reproach by Bianconi, in his New Guide.[52] It will be sufficient for my purpose to add, that nothing remains in the modern picture from the hand of Vinci, if we except three heads of apostles, which may be said to be rather sketched than painted. Milan boasts few of his works, as those which are ascribed to him are for the most part the productions of his school, occasionally retouched by himself, as in the altar-piece of S. Ambrogio ad nemus, which has great merit. A Madonna, however, and Infant, in the Belgioioso d'Este palace, as well as one or two other pictures in private possession, are undoubtedly from his hand. We are assured, indeed, that he left few pieces at Milan, as well from his known fastidiousness in painting, as from his having been diverted from it, both by inclination and by the commissions received from the prince, to conduct works connected with engineering, hydraulics, and machinery for a variety of purposes, besides those of architecture;[53] and especially in regard to that celebrated model of a horse, of which, owing to its size, as we are told by Vasari, no cast could be taken in bronze. And this writer is the more entitled to credit, as well because he flourished near the period of which he treats, as because he could hardly be ignorant of a work, which would almost have placed the fame of our Italian on an equality with that of Lysippus.[54]