The Arts in the Middle Ages and at the Period of the Renaissance

by P. L. Jacob

Fig. 246.—Fra Angelico, of Fiesole.

PAINTING ON WOOD, CANVAS, ETC.

The Rise of Christian Painting.—The Byzantine School.—First Revival in Italy.—Cimabue, Giotto, Fra Angelico.—Florentine School: Leonardo da Vinci, Michael Angelo.—Roman School: Perugino, Raphael.—Venetian School: Titian, Tintoretto, Veronese.—Lombard School: Correggio, Parmigianino.—Spanish School.—German and Flemish Schools: Stephan of Cologne, John of Bruges, Lucas van Leyden, Albert Dürer, Lucas van Cranach, Holbein.—Painting in France during the Middle Ages.—Italian Masters in France.—Jean Cousin.

The school of idea, which was substituted for the school of form, desired to owe nothing to its frivolous predecessor. It would have considered it a reproach to give even the semblance of permanence to reprobated traditions, and it set itself to work to create an art completely new in all its features. The rule it laid down, therefore, was to regard as non-existent the chefs-d’œuvre which recalled to mind the days of moral error; rejecting the inspiration to be derived from the magnificent relics of the past, it resolved to commence an era of its own, and to exist on its own ideas. Hence that principle of energetic simplicity which, although it may have hindered art from elevating itself to the perfection we call classical, had at least this advantage, that it sought by gradual development to imprint on Christian art a stamp of individuality from which it was to derive both its power and its glory.

Thus, by the enthusiasm of faith, was called into existence that really primitive School of Painting which has received the name of Byzantine; because at the very time when it obtained the liberty of displaying itself, Constantine, transferring the seat of empire to Byzantium, necessarily took with him the body of artists of whom he was the protector; because, too, as we have before observed, Byzantium henceforth became for many centuries the sole focus whence light radiated towards the West, which was now plunged in barbarism. We must, therefore, go back to the Byzantine school, if we wish to trace to their origin all the forms of European painting.

“Allegory,” says M. Michiels, “was the first language of Christian painting; not only did it express typically the Evangelical teachings, but the Divine personages themselves were metamorphosed into symbols. Sometimes, for instance, Christ appeared in the form of a young shepherd, bearing on his shoulders and carrying back to the fold a wandering sheep; sometimes He was represented as the Orpheus of the new faith, charming and taming ferocious animals by the sound of His lute.... He also was made to assume the form of the lamb without spot, or of a phœnix spreading its wings, the conqueror of death and the spirits of darkness. Thus was the transition softened down; thus did they escape the raillery of Pagans who would have turned into ridicule the heroic sufferings and the glorious humiliations of the Son of man. But this timidity could not long continue.... The council held at Constantinople in 692 commanded that allegory should be repudiated, and that the objects of their veneration should be displayed to the faithful without the veil hitherto employed. Now was exhibited to view a spectacle new indeed to men; a Deity crowned with thorns, enduring the outrages of a vile populace, or stretched upon a cross and pierced with a lance, turning His sad glance to heaven and wrestling with His agony. The Greeks and Latins were but slow in adopting this mode of representation, and did so with regret.... But the perception of moral dignity was destined to eclipse the vain pomp of Pagan grandeur. The generous sufferings of sacrifice were to become the greatest of all glories.”

“Christian painting, when once established as an art on the banks of the Bosphorus, assumed a certain immobility of character. Forms, attitudes, groups, and vestments—all were regulated by ecclesiastical prescription. There was, as it were, an inflexible text-book, to which artists were bound to submit. Delicacy of colouring and nobility of attitude were the only things to recall the beauty of ancient art. Even in our days the Greek and Russian painters follow a similar plan, drawing and arranging their figures in the same manner as their ancestors of the time of Honorius and the Palæologi.”

Even in the West the case was nearly the same, so long as the practice of painting remained almost exclusively confined to artists coming from Constantinople. Thus, in some celebrated manuscripts of the eighth and ninth centuries we find compositions that give a very exact representation of the state of the art in these remote times, though the paintings themselves have been destroyed by the Iconoclasts. In fact, during ten centuries it seemed that the Western races resisted any expression of artistic individuality or invention. Throughout this long period we find Greek painters the supreme arbiters of taste and knowledge in the countries of Western Europe, forcing upon them their own barren style, and teaching them their contracted perceptions. Art among them seemed always to be but a mere instinct. Constant immigrations took place which were continually leading them to every point in Western Europe, but none of them ever brought anything novel in art beyond what their predecessors had already introduced. If they took root in a new country, the son repeated the works of his father. The pupil took no means to enlarge his thoughts; he adopted as his model and his ideal nothing but the work of his master, and the poor form of tradition was continued without enthusiasm and without progress (Fig. 247). Genius is altogether wanting, or if its sacred spark sprung forth from heaven, it was soon extinguished when it reached the earth for want of a soul which could receive it, and be kindled by its fire. The Greek masters doubtless affected some pride in the grandeur of their native name, but they were none the less living proofs that the sources from which flowed the inspiration of a Zeuxis, a Protogenes, or an Apelles, had since those far-distant days been long dried up. The East had for ever terminated its ancient character of artistic creation, and the most it seemed destined to achieve during the Middle Ages was to preserve the germ which the West was to bring again into active life.