SECTION XII
SS. Apostoli-Palazzo Falier—I Gesuiti—I Crociferi—S. Caterina—S. Maria dell’ Orto—S. Marziale—Palazzo Giovanelli. (Admission to this last by application to the British Consul, traghetto S. Felice, Grand Canal.)
FROM the Ca’ d’Oro Pier on the Grand Canal a narrow calle leads into the broad Corso Vitt. Emanuele, which we follow to the R. and reach the church of the SS. Apostoli. Admirers of Tiepolo will find his St Lucy receiving the Sacrament before her Martyrdom, at the altar of the Cappella Corner to R. of entrance where are also two family monuments in the best style of the Lombardi school. A Veronese school painting, the Fall of Manna, is at the L. of the choir. The remains of Marino Falier’s house are incorporated in the palazzo over the Ponte SS. Apostoli opposite the church.
N.E. from the campo stands the church of the Gesuiti, built (1715) on the site of the ruined church of the Crociferi in the base style of the age. The interior, lavishly decorated with marble and inlay of verde antico, is incredibly vulgar in taste and contains, first chapel L., Titian’s martyrdom of St Lawrence, painted in 1558 when the old painter was under Michael Angelo’s influence. The work, which was generally esteemed one of the most rare and remarkable of his creations, is now so darkened by time as to be barely legible. The church possesses also an Assumption by Tintoretto.
Nearly opposite the Gesuiti is the oratory of the Crociferi, with Palma Giovane’s, Doge Cigogna visiting the Oratory, and six other paintings in the artist’s best style. The room contains also a Flagellation by Tintoretto and a ceiling painting, the Assumption, by Titian. The large monastery buildings opposite, still bearing the device of the order (three crosses), are now a barrack. We retrace our steps across the campo. About a hundred yards along the fondamenta Zen is the entrance to the little church of S. Caterina, which contains Veronese’s admirably preserved Marriage of St Catherine (p. [211]). The church has works by Palma Giovane and the inevitable Tintoretto, but we have eyes alone for the St Catherine, one of the most satisfying examples of the later glories of the Venetian school.
In an outlying part of the city to the N.W. is the church of S. Maria dell’ Orto. Cima’s Baptist with SS. Peter, Mark, Jerome and Paul, in a marble setting by Leopardi (p. [200]) stands over the first altar, R. aisle. In the third chapel L., is Tintoretto’s Presentation at the Temple, and in the Cappella Contarini, the same master’s St Agnes. Both have been freely restored, the former, says Ruskin, “has been so daubed as to be a ghastly ruin and a disgrace to modern Venice.” We turn to the choir, R. and L. of which are Tintoretto’s huge canvases, the Last Judgment, and the Worship of the Golden Calf. These are very highly appreciated by Ruskin but “demand resolute study if the traveller is to derive any pleasure from them.” Vasari, who saw them shortly after they were painted, was impressed by the terrible yet capricious invention displayed in the Last Judgment, but lamented the lack of care and diligence which marred what might have been a stupendous creation. Closely scrutinised, however, both seemed to him painted da burla (in jest). The first chapel L. of entrance has (R. wall) a Pietà by Lorenzo Lotto, and over the altar an early Virgin and Child by Giov. Bellini disastrously repainted. Over the sacristy door is a miracle-working half-figure of the Virgin and Child (restored), which was discovered in a garden in 1577 and gave the present name to the church (Our Lady of the Garden). Verocchio, Leopardi and Tintoretto were buried in the sacristy, but most of the tombs were defaced or destroyed by the Austrians when the church was used as a military magazine in 1855.
Making our way southward we reach the church of S. Marziale, which contains Titian’s Tobias, and Tintoretto’s last work, the Patron Saint with SS. Peter and Paul. From the Campo S. Marziale we cross the Ponte Zancani and the Ponte S. Fosca, noting the marble footmarks on the crown (p. [305]), and pass the statue of Paolo Sarpi erected near the spot where the friar was stabbed. We continue our way by the church, and a short distance to the L. along the Corso Vitt. Emanuele is the Palazzo Giovanelli, one of the best examples of a restored patrician mansion of the period of the Ducal Palace. The interior is sumptuously decorated, and contains the most precious Giorgione in Venice, the so-called Family of Giorgione (p. [202]), referred to by a late contemporary as “a stormy landscape with a gipsy and soldier.” Vasari complained that Giorgione’s subjects were difficult to characterise by a phrase. In the foreground on the L., with the characteristic Giorgione pose, stands a figure in the flower of manhood holding a staff. The dress, suggesting both knight and peasant, seems to typify the defender and sustainer of maternity symbolised by the young mother sitting, to the R., on a sloping, sunlit meadow, giving suck to her babe, both modelled with perfect naturalness and beauty. Through the centre of the picture flows a mountain stream crossed by a rustic bridge. In the background of the landscape, with its graceful trees, rises the walled city of Castelfranco, Giorgione’s birthplace, darkened by storm clouds rent by a flash of lightning. The sunny foreground and the louring sky seem to tell of the vicissitudes of human existence. A classic remain with two broken columns adds to the pathetic beauty of this, one of the earliest paintings in which landscape is transfused with human emotion and poetic sentiment.
Among other attractions the gallery possesses a portrait by Antonello, a Santa Conversazione by Paris Bordone, a battle scene by Tintoretto, a portrait by Titian, and a doubtful Giovanni Bellini, attributed by Mr Berenson to Catena. In the ballroom are some very fine Venetian mirrors.