In the Gallery of Ancient and Modern Art
The enthusiasm aroused by Fra Angelico’s pictures, caused a vivid desire amongst the various religious orders of the city, to possess some work of his; Dominicans, Vallombrosians, Chartreuse monks, and the Camaldolese of Santa Maria degli Angeli, vied with each other, and all in turn obtained some of his admirable creations.
Among the panels painted by Fra Giovanni for the Florentine churches and convents, the one which excels all for intensity of sentiment and sincerity of expression is the “Deposition from the Cross,” once in the Sacristy of Santa Trinità, and now in the Ancient and Modern Gallery, a panel “in which,” writes Vasari, “he put so much care that we may class it among the best things he ever did.”
The disciples with loving reverence let down from the Cross, which occupies the centre of the composition, the body of the Saviour. His face, drooping on the left shoulder, breathes a sorrowful calm, and divine serenity which death itself could not destroy. The nude is intelligently rendered, in nobility of form, softness of line, and transparency and morbidity of colouring. On the left stands a group of women; St. Mary Magdalene kisses the feet of Christ; the Virgin contemplates Him in a trance of sadness; on the right the disciples discuss the melancholy drama among themselves, while below, a kneeling saint holds his right hand to his breast and extends the left in a sorrowful wonder. In the background is a hilly landscape with the Holy City on the left, and Mount Calvary which the artist “with poetic and devout conceit,” writes Marchese, “has drawn adorned with grass and flowers, as though to denote that at the touch of the feet and precious blood of Jesus Christ, the bare heights were reclad in rich and verdant beauty. Although marred by restoration—for the eye is offended by the inharmonious contrast of tints, the effect of unskilful retouching,—we may consider this painting as one of the most beautiful works which Fra Angelico has left us. Grandeur and simplicity are marvellously blended with freshness of colour, and correctness of design with most intense expression and pure sentiment.”
The landscape in the background shows the usual defects of perspective, but the mountains shade off delicately against the distant blue of the sky, the plain is illuminated with infinite flowerets, and a rich verdure clothes the summit of the sacred hill. In the pilasters of the frame are small figures of Saints, some of the best and finest that Fra Angelico ever painted, and in the gables above the three arches Lorenzo Monaco has represented the “Noli me tangere,” the “Resurrection,” and the “Maries at the Sepulchre.”
Here the question naturally arises: Why should Lorenzo Monaco have limited his work solely to the three little scenes in the gables of the frame, while Fra Angelico has given us the beautiful little figures of the pilasters which show all his peculiar grace and refinement? Why did an artist capable of producing those admirable saints, leave to Fra Lorenzo Monaco the office (all the worse if he had been, as some say, his master) of finishing the work with only those three insignificant little scenes? And can we suppose that Fra Lorenzo Monaco, already at the apex of his fame, should accept, and, still more strange, be content with a secondary part in Fra Giovanni’s work?
The answer is more simple than it at first appears. There is no doubt that the scenes in the Gothic gables are the work of the Camaldolese monk, and as we cannot logically infer that they were specially painted by him for Fra Angelico’s picture, we must suppose, and indeed firmly believe them to have been added at a later time. In fact, the form of the foliated Gothic decoration lacks character and does not harmonize with the pilasters which clearly show, too, a subsequent adaptation of the frame. The finials of the pilasters do not match the style of the gables, in fact it is clear that the Gothic ornamentation, taken from some painting by Lorenzo Monaco, was at a more recent date adapted to Fra Angelico’s altar-piece.
Fra Giovanni painted a panel picture of the “Dead Christ” for the “Compagnia del Tempio” in Florence; this is now in the Ancient and Modern Gallery, having been placed there in 1786, after the suppression of that Company.
Rio supposes that the enthusiasm aroused by the great Deposition in Santa Trinità, tempted the Company to covet the possession of a similar one.47
Only two figures, however, are common to the two paintings: one is the St. Simeon kneeling in the left corner who, in this second picture, is represented as a younger man than in the first; the other is a figure a little behind him, which is a reproduction of that one in the large Deposition with a hood on his head, who is speaking to the disciple below him, as he entrust to him the body of the Saviour;—a figure which Milanesi believes to be a portrait of the architect Michelozzo.
If this be indeed Fra Angelico’s friend the Florentine architect, we may admit Cartier’s assertion that this panel is a sequel of the larger Descent from the Cross, and may have been painted at the same time.48 But these are things which we dare not affirm with any certainty, as we entertain doubts regarding the greater or less authenticity of writers on the subject of Michelozzo’s portrait.
Besides many figures of saints, the painter has introduced those of St. Dominic and the Beata Villana, because the Company of the Temple had ancient rights over the relics of this good woman which are preserved in the Dominican church of Santa Maria Novella. The other figures, though expressing divers feelings of sorrow and lively sympathy, have nothing in common with the famous Deposition either in character or technique and the picture does not reach the usual perfection.
Even the type of the Christ differs remarkably in the two paintings, so much so that no comparison can be instituted, or resemblance found between them; moreover, the panel of the Temple Company is badly spoilt by restoration, and the colouring is so altered that it is almost black in some parts.
“In the Chapel of the SS. Annunziata at Florence which Piero di Cosimo de’ Medici caused to be built, Fra Angelico painted the doors of the presses where the silver plate is kept, with little figures executed with great diligence.”49 They represent the life and death of Christ in 35 small scenes, which are now in the Ancient and Modern Gallery.
Padre Marchese writes: “I believe it was in Fiesole that he painted many of those little panels, which may now be seen in the Gallery of the Florentine Academy of Design, and perhaps also the doors of the presses for the silver vessels in the chapel of the SS. Annunziata at Florence. In his first edition Vasari had enumerated them among his early works, which may have seemed probable, as Fra Angelico’s first steps in art were in illuminating and painting small stories.”50
But as it was only in 1448 that Piero de’ Medici, to show his devotion to the Virgin of the Annunciation, obtained from the monks the patronage of that altar with the intention of adorning it with a splendour worthy of the dignity of Her to whom it was dedicated,51 we cannot suppose that Fra Angelico painted the door of its treasure presses before that time.
Rio also dates at the epoch of the monk’s sojourn in Tuscany towards 1450, the great unfinished painting now in the Academy of the Belle Arti, which has been regarded as one of Fra Angelico’s first works. We know as a fact that in 1450 he was prior of the convent at Fiesole, and may believe that he stayed some time in Tuscany, before returning to Rome to finish the chapel of Pope Nicholas V.52 But Rio adds that “besides the date of the building of the chapel, the fact that the portrait of Michelozzo represents him as older in this work than in the Deposition,” suggests for this cyclic composition an approximative date, very far from that assigned to it previously.53
We must not forget, however, that several doubts arise as to the identity of the person representing Michelozzo.
Vasari recognises him in that old Nicodemus with a hood, who lowers the Christ from the cross in the Deposition, while Milanesi, asserting that Nicodemus has a saint’s aureole not a cowl, holds that the portrait of Michelozzo is to be seen in the figure with a black hood who speaks with the disciple beneath him as he gives the body of the Lord into his hands. Certainly Milanesi has good reason to doubt Vasari’s assertion, as Nicodemus has no hood: moreover Vasari himself in his second edition of the Lives (1568) assigns as the architect’s likeness that very figure with a cowl who is speaking to the disciple. Therefore we must admit that the Aretian Historian was mistaken either in his indication of the figure, or in the reproduction of it as a headpiece to his Life of Michelozzo.
In any case, a similar figure to that in the “Deposition,” and with the same head-gear, again appears a little older in the fresco of the convent of San Marco representing the “Adoration of the Magi”; also in another picture of the “Presentation in the Temple”; and in the little square with a “Flight into Egypt”, on one of the doors of SS. Annunziata. If Michelozzo be really portrayed here, we must conclude that the Deposition was painted long before 1442, and the press doors about the same time, or a little later; but the student must take into account the curious fact that in the “Deposition” the disciple who talks to the man with a cowl above him, has also a certain resemblance to the supposed Michelozzo, and that Nicodemus reappears as St. John Baptist on the left of the large altar-piece painted for the church of San Marco, as well as in the picture of the dead Christ, and also as the kneeling King who kisses the feet of the Babe in the fresco of the “Adoration of the Magi.”
Therefore, without giving great importance to the question of the true portrait of Michelozzo, we find that these heads, whether of Nicodemus or the hooded disciple, are represented in various pictures by our artist, modified by age, so that from them we may establish the succession of the different works, i. e. first the “Dead Christ” of the Company of the Temple, next the picture at San Marco (1438), then the “Deposition,” and lastly the fresco in San Marco, and the little “Annunciation.” Thus all these works would certainly date during Fra Angelico’s stay in Florence.
But to return to the doors of the presses in the SS. Annunziata, it is true, as Rio writes, that instead of being a series of subjects for future frescoes or altar-pieces, the “stories” seem a hasty resumé, often too hasty, of works already painted in the convent of San Marco or other places. Some of them are noticeable for firmness of design and vigour of colouring, others instead are unworthy of the master and evidently show another hand.
To give this great work its due appreciation we must take it as a whole, as the profound genius of Fra Angelico had conceived it. Wishing to give it the unity of a dramatic poem, he placed at the beginning and at the end, like a prologue and an epilogue, two symbolic figures, in the last of which the seven branched candlestick serves as a support to the Old and New Testaments.54
We may enumerate among the best scenes the “Flight into Egypt,” the “Slaughter of the Innocents,” the “Betrayal of Judas,” the “Dead Christ,” and the “Resurrection of Lazarus,” all composed in Giottesque style: but, when we think of the progress of Fra Angelico in art as shown in the frescoes in San Marco, and his best panel paintings, we cannot avoid noticing a certain want of vigour in these presses.
Having become accustomed to the grander methods of fresco painting, in which his talent and ability found greater scope for expression,—even though not attaining to the ease and force of some of his contemporaries and followers,—Fra Angelico must have now found himself at the disadvantage, natural to one who, after moving free in wider space, is suddenly cramped into narrower confines. This explains why we find in some of these small panels, greater conventionality in the representation of scenes and action, and less ease and correctness of execution. We might add also, that many of them, where these defects are especially evident, may be ascribed to other hands, less clever than his own, those of his assistants who were called in to expedite the work and assist the artist.
Rio believes that two of Angelico’s paintings, one of which was once in the Dominican monastery of San Vincenzo d’Annalena, and the other in that of the Frati dell’Osservanza in Mugello, but now both at the Belle Arti, were executed later than the frescoes in the Vatican, to which they offer an extraordinary resemblance, not perceivable in the artist’s earlier works.55
We cannot, however, accept the assertion of the French critic. These two pictures, though utterly different in character and type, too forcibly recall his previous works. And as according to the same author the altar-piece of the monks of the Mugello resembles the other in colouring, technique, the freer style of drapery, the type of the Virgin and character of the figures, we might reasonably conclude that both paintings belong to the period of his residence at Fiesole or Florence, i. e. previous to his departure for Rome in 1445.
We are even less inclined to endorse the opinion of Rio in regard to the date of the painting from the Annalena Convent. The internal organization of the convent was only regulated by a bull of Pope Nicholas V. after 1450, so there is probably no connection between the internal establishment of the convent and the Commission for the picture.
The convent (it is well to remember) was founded in 1453, but the religious intentions of Anna Elena Malatesta met with no slight resistance, and it was not till 1455, that Pope Calixtus III. conceded her permission to “build in her house a public oratory in which mass should be celebrated and the divine Offices performed.” We cannot then admit that the picture was specially painted for the convent named56 after that saintly lady. When one reflects that Anna Elena Malatesta, foundress of the monastery, was educated in the house of Attilio di Vieri de’ Medici, and was by Cosimo Pater Patriæ married to Baldaccio of Anghiari, it is not unlikely that the picture had been a commission from Cosimo, and that when Annalena was left a widow, and took the vows in 1441, it was offered by him to the convent, to which the sad widow had consecrated all her care. It is the more probable, that it was painted for the Medici, because the two patron saints of their house are represented in it.
SS. Cosmo and Damian only appear in the pictures painted by Fra Angelico in Florence, probably in recognition of the benefits bestowed by Cosimo on the monks of San Marco; moreover, we do not think the work could have been done at Fiesole after the first visit to Rome in 1452, because the figures, weak in chiaro-scuro, are still treated as if they were enlarged miniatures, and do not show the character of his later works. On the other hand the picture of the Osservanza in Mugello displays the whole power of the artist, and may be compared, as Rio says, to the panel at San Marco both in the character of the figures and the larger style of treatment.
Vasari cites other works which have unfortunately been dispersed or destroyed, among which were an altar-piece in the Certosa at Florence, representing the “Virgin and Child,” with some angels below, and at the sides St. Laurence, St. Zenobi, and St. Benedict; the “Coronation of the Madonna,” once in the lunette of the Acciajoli chapel: another with the “Virgin and two saints,” painted “con azzurri oltramarini bellissimi,” (with beautiful ultramarine blues): and the pictures in the dividing wall of Santa Maria Novella opposite the choir. The “Annunciation,” which according to Vasari was in the church of San Francesco at San Miniato, and which Milanesi believes to be in the Museum of Madrid, is instead now in the National Gallery at London. It is a diptych, in one panel the archangel Gabriel, with golden wings outspread, crossing his hands on his breast bows before the Virgin, who in the other panel leans forward to listen to his blessed word. The scene is in a cloister, from the arches of which a field of flowers is seen, and in the distant horizon the outlines of the Apennine mountains. A great lily blossoms beside the Virgin, the two capitals of the columns of the cloister have the Albizzi arms carved on them.
“This good Father painted so many pictures for the houses of the citizens of Florence, that one wonders how one man could so perfectly execute even in many years all that he has done.” So writes Vasari, and indeed a complete list of his paintings still existing in Italy and elsewhere would be too long; those we have illustrated will, however, suffice to give a good idea of his artistic genius, and the sentiment with which this gentle artist could represent the marvellous visions of a soul in love with heaven!